


Aquaria

by AllieLivier



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Aquaria, F/M, Magic-Users
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-05-24 14:05:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 75,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6156049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllieLivier/pseuds/AllieLivier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Based off a post from Tumblr about witches: Aquaria* Bellamy Blake has been plagued with dreams of his mystery girl for years, and he's accepted the fact he'll never find her. Until a bad arrest has him digging into a world he has no part in, but a world where he thinks he'll finally find her. The only thing standing in his way is his only lead in, Clarke Griffin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Gold. Like the petals of a sunflower.   
She moved with a grace so instinctive and natural, with her eyes so blue and beset upon my lips…  
What it would be like to touch them, caress them, taste them…

Bellamy Blake jolted awake in his bed, sweat beading and slithering down the planes of his chest. The dream felt so real, like it did every time; his very own mystery girl hiding in the crests of each wave, soaking up the sand around her, and calling to him, practically begging him to find her. It always felt so real that when Bellamy awoke he swore he could smell the salty sea air hovering in his bedroom.   
It wasn’t always the ocean, though. Sometimes he dreamt about her near the river in the woods, and sometimes she would be looking into a puddle as if it were heaven.   
But then Bellamy would wake up and the reality of his life would obliterate any dream he had with his gold haired, blue-eyed princess.   
He got up with a grumble and started to get dressed. With one look outside his bay window, he could already tell it was going to be a terrible day. The sky was grey and the clouds all clustered together, whispering about the oncoming storm. As it was, the rain had already started to splatter against Bellamy’s window.   
Dressed and ready, he walked over to his little sister’s bedroom and knocked softly against her door.  
“Octavia,” he called. “Time to get up, champ.” He heard a loud thump from her room and a hushed, “quick, go!” and wasted no more time standing outside her door. Bellamy barged in, one hand already on his hip. He jaw clenched when he caught sight of the boy trying to make his way out Octavia’s window.   
“It’s a five story drop,” Bellamy started, shooting daggers into the young boy. “You sure you don’t want to use the front door?”   
The boy quickly shot Octavia a look before glancing back at Bellamy, and Bellamy could already see the wheels turning in this kid’s head.   
The boy chuckled nervously before picking up his shoes and nodding. He tentatively brushed past Bellamy but Bellamy wasn’t quick to let this kid go. Bellamy grabbed his arm and hauled him dangerously close.   
“If I catch you with my sister again, you’ll be walking out of here with missing limbs,” Bellamy said, voice low. “Do you understand me?”   
Bellamy heard the kid gulp and saw his nod, then allowed him to pass. It wasn’t until Bellamy heard the sound of the front door closing that he looked at his sister.   
“Seriously, O?”   
“Nothing happened,” Octavia said, rolling her eyes. “We were just-”  
“Tah tah tah,” Bellamy stopped her. “I don’t want to hear what you two were doing.” Then Bellamy sighed. “O, what are you doing with that loser?”  
“He’s a nice guy, Bell.”  
“No, a nice guy understands how you deserve to be treated. If he’s too afraid to even walk in and out of our apartment using the front door, he has no idea how to treat a girl like you.”   
Octavia fidgeted with the strings on her quilt and then sighed. “Sorry,” she said, lowering her head.   
Bellamy waited a few seconds. “What’s his name?”   
“Atom,” she said.   
“Just be careful, O,” Bellamy said, beginning to close her door again. “And get ready for school! You’re going to be late.”   
He left her door ajar and didn’t miss the loud groan she made before hearing her shuffling away.   
It was going to be a long day for Bellamy. 

It was pouring by the time Bellamy got to work. He had never known California to rain that much or that hard before. A freak storm, his captain had called it.   
“I need you all to be extra careful driving out there on the roads,” Captain Jaha said. “People don’t know how to drive on wet roads. Now, get to work.”  
Bellamy had just gotten out of his seat when his captain stopped him.   
“Blake,” he called.   
Bellamy saw his partner already standing beside the captain.  
“What’s going on, boss?” Bellamy asked.  
“I need you and Collins to check something out for me,” Captain Jaha started. “We got a call about some suspicious activity going on in Downtown. Usually I wouldn’t think twice to send Murphy and Johnson but this is a…special circumstance.”  
“What do you mean?” asked Finn Collins, arms crossing over his chest.  
“I don’t want to jump to conclusions but,” Captain hesitated.   
“Spit it out, Cap,” Bellamy snapped.   
Captain Jaha sighed. “From the description provided by the caller, it sounds an awful lot like Griffin’s daughter.”   
Finn stiffened notably beside Bellamy and leaned forward. “How sure are you it’s her?”   
“I’d say pretty sure. Griffin was just telling me last night that she hadn’t come home again. This could be her.”   
“So, what? You want us to go bring her spoiled-ass home? If you ask me, we should leave her there. Maybe she’ll learn her damn lesson,” Bellamy retorted. He was in no mood to play babysitter for a spoiled little rich girl who was bored of her life.   
“Then it’s a good thing no one is asking you,” Finn snapped. “We’re on it, Captain.”   
Captain Jaha slapped their shoulders as he passed by them and Bellamy continued to shake his head.  
“Great. Babysitter duty,” he muttered under his breath.   
“Stop being a dick, Bellamy,” Finn said.   
“Oh, come on, Collins. You’re just doing this because you still think that after two years of rejection, Griffin’s daughter will let you fuck her.” Bellamy stormed off to his desk and picked up his gun from inside a drawer. Strapping it on his belt, he lead the way to their police car, ready to bring Clarke Griffin home.

They knew full and well when they reached Downtown. The streets were littered with homeless folk, some drunk, some high off drugs, others just eating away at their fingernails. Bellamy thought he saw a needle on one of them, but they were out of sight before he could examine it further. He’d rather be doing a drug bust than rescuing the little princess from herself.  
Finn pulled the car over beside a gated home. A few houses down there were kids throwing sticks at each other, and just across the street was an elderly woman watering her dead plants.   
Bellamy knew a farce when he saw one. He eyed Finn across the console and drew his attention to their surroundings. With a nod, they got out of the car.   
“Looks like the princess likes to slum it,” Bellamy muttered to himself. It was too low for Finn to hear but Bellamy was sure that if he did he’d get a good punch in the face for it.   
A crash from inside the house jarred Bellamy back and his hand instinctively went to his gun. Both Finn and Bellamy pointed their guns toward the entrance and Bellamy inclined his head forward for Finn to go. When they reached the door, the smell of burning flesh hit their faces so hard that they both recoiled.   
“Tell me again,” said a muffled voice behind the door. “What are you doing to do with the footage?” It was a man’s voice that much Bellamy was sure of.  
A whimper sounded out and Finn reached for the knob. It wasn’t until another voice called out, a softer, lighter voice, that Bellamy put a hand on Finn’s to stop him.  
“I’d do as he says,” the voice said. “You really don’t want him to char off anymore of your goods now, do you?”  
Bellamy saw Finn’s jaw lock and he had no doubt it was because that was the Princess’s voice behind the door. She wasn’t the one being tortured. Which meant…  
Bellamy kicked the door in, gun raised. “LAPD!” he screamed. “Hands up!” He took in the scene before him. There was a kid sitting on a wooden chair, hands gripping the stems, burn marks on his forearms. When the kid lifted his head, panting, Bellamy recognized him as the younger kid from this morning. With Octavia.   
Bellamy’s hand tightened around his gun. “Hands up,” he screamed again, the gun jumping forward with his momentum.   
The man standing closest to Finn and Bellamy had his jaw locked and it ticked from behind his lips as he complied. His plain white T was coated in sweat and yellow stains that contrasted greatly from the guy’s tan skin. It was obvious he spent a lot of time outdoors; especially from the way his muscles bulged with adrenaline and frustration.   
Then he noticed the young woman leaning languidly against the counter. Her black, wavy hair fell lazily down her shoulders. The blank tank top she wore screamed against her white skin. But that wasn’t what drew Bellamy in. It was her blue eyes. He had seen her eyes before, nothing special, but they struck in him something fierce in that moment. They shone with an intensity that complimented the smirk she was wearing.   
Bellamy stopped short at that. She was smirking at him, like she knew his secret.   
“Clarke,” Finn stepped forward. “Go outside and wait in the car.”  
She wasn’t looking at Finn though. She was looking at Bellamy, that smirk still playing at the corners of her mouth.   
“Something amusing about this, Princess?” Bellamy snapped.   
Her light giggle sent his blood rushing. “Oh, lots,” she said.   
“Finn, cuff this guy,” Bellamy said pointing his gun at the man with the white T. At that moment, the young kid sitting in the chair decided to make a break for it. Bellamy was on him in seconds.  
“We got to stop meeting like this,” Bellamy said, twisting the kid’s arms behind his back.   
All the while, Clarke never moved from her position against the counter. And her smirk never left.   
Loading them all into the back of the squad car was a giant fest of awkwardness. The kid started crying half way there, but with one hard look from the white T guy, and the kid shut up real quick. Clarke, sitting between the two, never spoke but starred on with amusement at Bellamy. Occasionally she would glance at Finn, but his reassuring smile turned her off real fast.   
It wasn’t until they got back to the precinct that Bellamy noted a difference in Clarke’s demeanor. She was sitting beside Finn’s desk, knees bouncing, hands rubbing down her knees. Whenever Bellamy got close enough, he swore he saw her shoulders trembling. He eyed her from across the room, calculating her movements, wondering why the sudden change. The snarky girl from the house was nowhere in sight by the time Jake Griffin showed up.   
The moment he walked in everyone gave him a salute, their sign of respect, but Clarke didn’t even move. If anything, she closed off even more. Jake Griffin’s face was blank until he saw his daughter. Then everything became apparent. Bellamy saw the way his eyes flashed from general relief, to anger, and then back to sympathy – the same way Bellamy was with Octavia.   
“Get up,” Griffin said, voice gruff. There was no room for arguments. Clarke flinched a little at his volume and followed him into the interrogation room.  
Bellamy couldn’t make out anything through the door, but through the window he could see Griffin on the cusp of losing his shit. Clarke was still fidgeting with her hands, shaking, rocking. He had seen drug addicts do the same thing. Withdrawals.  
“Answer me!” Griffin screamed. It could be heard all throughout the precinct. The commotion and bustling around the room stopped short for a few moments, everyone’s attention drawn to Griffin’s voice.   
Bellamy debated going in there, calming him down, but then Clarke finally lifted her head. He didn’t miss the single tear that fell down her cheek and Bellamy saw all the fight in Griffin go out. Griffin said something else, his finger coming out, reprimanding her, and then he sighed.   
When Griffin looked up through the window, his eyes landed on Bellamy. Caught red handed, Bellamy nodded at him before going back to his computer screen logging in everything that happened at the house.  
“Blake,” a voice called out. It was Griffin from the interrogation room. He motioned Bellamy forward.   
“Yes, sir?” he asked, watching Clarke out of the corner of his eye.   
“Has my daughter been processed yet?”   
Bellamy internally rolled his eyes. Of course he hadn’t processed her yet because he knew the moment big shot Daddy Griffin showed up, they’d tell him to ignore the fact Clarke was at that house to begin with.   
“No, sir,” said Bellamy, hands balling into fists. The damn privileged, Bellamy thought.   
“Book her,” Griffin said.   
Bellamy was frozen by his words. “Excuse me?”  
“Dad,” Clarke interrupted. Her voice sounded exasperated, like she had been trying to talk him out of this for a while, but the fight was slowly leaving her.   
“No, Clarke,” her dad started. “You want to meddle with this shit then you suffer the consequences.”   
“You don’t have enough to hold me,” she yelled, a new fight rising in her. “You don’t have enough to hold any of us.”   
She was right on that front. Regardless of the fact that Bellamy and Finn basically caught her and that buff dude torturing Atom, they hadn’t actually seen anything. And the only thing they had to go on was an anonymous call about a disturbance in the neighborhood. They had nothing to keep them in for. That didn’t stop them from detaining them for 24 hours.   
“Either way, I don’t want you home tonight,” Griffin said. He didn’t spare Clarke another glance before he b-lined it out of the precinct, leaving Bellamy alone with Clarke.   
There were still a lot of unanswered questions about what Bellamy and Finn had walked in on, so Bellamy took it upon himself to get them. He walked back into the hall and grabbed two cups of water before going back into the interrogation room, shutting the door behind him.   
“Here,” he said placing the cup in front of her. Her eyes latched on to the water and she darted forward so fast, guzzling it down greedily. She was watching the other cup Bellamy had in his hand and he shook his head as he passed it to her. She chugged that cup down too.   
“Can I have more?” she asked.   
“No,” he answered. “Answer a question for me first.”   
Clarke finally looked up at him. Her blue eyes unsettled him again. He hated to admit it, but her blue eyes reminded him of his dream girl – all blonde locks and grace. Everything Clarke wasn’t.   
Clarke leaned forward, her elbows coming to rest on the table, locks of dried black hair brushing the cool metal. “What do you want to know?”   
“What the hell was going on in that house?”   
“I’m not answering that.”  
“Why not?”  
“Because it’s a stupid question. You already know what was happening in that house.”   
“Why were you torturing him?”  
“I’m not answering that either,” she said, chuckling.  
“And why the hell not?” Bellamy fought against the irritation threatening to ruin the entire interrogation.   
“Because that is also a stupid question,” she said simply.  
“You’re impossible,” he sighed.   
“No, you’re just asking all the wrong questions,” Clarke said, leaning back against the chair, nails tapping along the table.  
“What would be the right questions to ask?”   
“I can’t tell you that. Then I’d be doing your job for you, wouldn’t I, officer Blake?” She was taunting him that much Bellamy was sure of. But he thought about what she meant by asking the ‘wrong’ questions. Then recounted the events of that day.   
“When we got there, the place smelled like burning flesh. That kid had burn marks on him. But when we patted you and your boy toy down, you both had nothing on you that could produce those marks.” Bellamy watched Clarke closely, gauging a reaction.   
“I’m intrigued now,” she smiled.  
“How did you torture him?”  
“Now that,” Clarke said, leaning forward again, “is the right question.”   
She smiled sweetly at him, a smirk coming back and then tossed the cup back at him. “More, please.”   
Bellamy stared at her, watching her mask come back up, knowing the interrogation, or whatever the hell that was, was over. He brought her back six more cups of water and watched her guzzle them all down in seconds.   
Her eyes brightened after each cup, her muscles relaxing, her confidence returning. And Bellamy couldn’t figure her out. So he booked her instead.   
“A night behind bars,” he told Finn later that day. “That’s exactly what the princess needs.” 

By nightfall the commotion of the precinct had slowed, and Clarke chipped away at her nail polish counting down the hours. She had been locked up for five hours and the Atom kid wouldn’t stop whimpering. Clarke shook her head before taking a sip out of her cup. She lost count how many cups of water she had asked for but she was finally starting to feel normal again.   
Too close, Clarke thought, remembering what happened at the house and what started it all. She looked over at Atom again. His hands were cradling his face and he was whispering to himself.  
Clarke edged closer to him. “Hey,” she whispered.   
Atom flinched and started to whimper loudly again. “Stop,” he said.  
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Clarke said. It was starting to appall her that Atom even thought that. But he had every right to be afraid of her.  
“Clarke,” someone called out.   
She turned toward the voice. “Piss off, Evan.”   
Evan huffed before standing from his bench and going straight to Clarke. He gripped her chin in one hand, dragging her face close to his. “Don’t forget what he has on us,” he said. “On you.”   
“I-” Atom hesitated. “I won’t tell anyone, I swear!”   
Clarke tried to rip her chin away from Evan’s grip but he wasn’t having that just yet.   
“And don’t forget what I have on you,” he said, menacingly.   
“If you let that get out, you go down with me,” Clarke warned him.   
“Little princess trying to scare me?” he taunted. “I’m not afraid of you.”   
Clarke smiled and brought her knee up with surprising force, forcing Evan to double over and fall to the floor. “You should be,” she said.   
“Hey,” a loud voice boomed. “What the hell is going on in there?”   
Bellamy had reached the gate and was eyeing Evan on the floor. Clarke came forward and wrapped her hands around the bars.   
“Uh,” she started. “Excuse me, Officer Blake, can I get some more water, please?”   
“More?” he asked, already thinking back to the amount of cups Finn and to bring back and forth.  
“If I were you,” Evan groaned from the floor, “I’d keep that girl as far away from water as I could.”  
“It’s a good thing you’re not me then,” Bellamy retorted. “I’ll be back with water, princess.”   
Clarke let out a relieved sigh and fell pliant against the bars. She looked back to see Evan getting up and taking his seat back on the bench. Atom had finally stopped rocking and whimpering. And though Clarke was finally starting to think clearer, the chaos of being near another of her kind using his abilities finally easing, she knew she would never really be free from this life.   
She glared at her hands, at the veins and blood running underneath. It was what ran inside her that made her different, that kept her a prisoner. She could smell the cup of water Bellamy was bringing and felt the sudden need to cry. She was a prisoner to her own powers. There was no escaping the call of Aquaria.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: Thank you to everyone who has read and/or reviewed. Ya’ll are awesome. I won’t waste a lot of time. Just wanted to say thanks for reading & hope you enjoy.

Clarke paced the length of her room. Three hours since she had been released and already she was back to the same worries.   
If Atom talked, she was dead. So was Evan. Not that she minded that part too much. She figured either Atom would talk or eventually Evan would. Both would end with her head on a pike. Just then, Jake Griffin came into her room followed closely by her mom.   
“Clarke,” her dad started. “We need to talk about this.”  
“No,” Clarke grumbled. She bit hard on her lip, as if that was enough to keep the finer details of that night from spilling.   
“Honey,” Abby said, reaching for Clarke’s arms.   
“No!” Clarke yelled. “We can’t talk about this. Why can’t you see that?”  
“If we don’t talk about this soon, it is going to eat you alive, Clarke,” her dad said.   
“It already is!” Clarke sank to the floor. “I cannot talk about that night. If I talk about it, you and mom are involved. Don’t you see? They’ll kill you both too.”  
Jake bent down and grasped Clarke’s hands. “No one is going to kill you. Not on my watch.” Then he sighed. “But, honey, you can’t keep turning to Evan. He’s not keeping you safe, he’s putting you in danger.”  
Clarke shook her head several times. “I know,” she cried. “But he won’t let them find out. That means they find out about him too,” she explained.  
“How long will that last?” her mother brought up. Clarke didn’t want to think about that. It was always a possibility though, she knew. One day, Evan would get tired of keeping her ass safe and he’d sell her out to save his own. That was how Evan worked.   
“I have no other option,” Clarke said, her voice low and gruff.   
“Yes, you do.” Abby knelt beside Clarke and Jake. “I talked to Kane and –”  
“You told Kane?” Clarke started. “Mom, how could you tell him? I told you not to. He’ll go to Cage, you know he will.”  
“No, Clarke. I’ve talked to him and told him everything I know. He’s allowing you to join the coven, sweetie.” Abby smiled, true relief in her eyes.   
Clarke couldn’t believe she was hearing this, and when she looked at her dad she could tell by the hard look in his eyes that he didn’t agree with her mom.  
“Sure, he’ll let me join, but at what cost?” Clarke asked, already preparing for the worst.   
Abby swallowed. She knew Clarke wouldn’t like this part, but it was her only other option. Abby cleared her throat. “Pledge your powers to him and you’ll be granted his protection.”   
“No,” Clarke said immediately, no hesitation.   
“Clarke,” Abby reprimanded.   
“No!” Clarke said again. “I can’t give them up! I would belong to him, mom. Not me. Him! I won’t do that.”   
“You don’t belong to yourself right now, Clarke! You’re a prisoner to your powers,” Abby said. “It’s obvious you’re addicted. Honey,” Abby said, soothing the hair away from Clarke’s trembling face. “Pledging yourself to Kane will take away that addiction. It will be better for you,” she pleaded.  
The tears sailed past Clarke’s cheeks without her even knowing and she closed her hands into fists. She hated the idea of handing her powers over to Kane, someone her mother respected, but someone Clarke couldn’t support.   
A rumble sounded outside and the sound of rain hit Clarke’s window. Her head snapped up, drawn to the sound. She sighed as another rumble of thunder sounded. She could smell the rain through her windows and she yearned to open them, let the water in, soak it up. Get lost in it.   
“Clarke,” Jake said.   
But Clarke’s attention was on the water running slowly down her windowpane. It was peaceful, alluring.  
“Hey,” Jake said, fingers snapping in front of Clarke’s eyes to gain her attention. Then Jake sighed.   
“You’re mom is right, Clarke,” he said.   
Clarke watched her dad wrap a hand around his neck trying to wring out the knots there. She also noticed the bags under her mother’s eyes. Clarke swallowed against the guilt in her throat. She was doing this to them.  
“I know how much you don’t want to do this,” Abby started. “But I’m telling you now that you have no choice.”  
“You can’t make me swear fealty to him, mom. That’s not how our kind works.”   
“We have our ways. The ways of the coven have always been a little…unorthodox,” Abby answered.   
“Abby,” Jake warned. There was a look that past between them, one that unsettled Clarke. But before she could question it, they were leaving her room.  
Clarke settled against her window feeling the cold seep into her bones through the material of her sweater. She cracked the window open a bit and stuck her hand out.   
When the water hit her open palm, a jolt of energy coursed through her.   
“Element of my element, I call to thee,” she whispered. “Help me. Save me.” Clarke cried against her window and let the falling rain drops make up for the tears she shed. 

 

Bellamy typed away at his computer filing reports. It was his least favorite thing to do in this arena of the job, but it had to be done. Collins was across from him working on the same thing when a voice broke the serene clack of their keys.  
“Hey, Finn,” said Clarke coming to sit at the end of Finn’s desk.   
Bellamy looked back the way she came in from, expecting to see Jake Griffin coming in, but it was just Clarke. “What are you doing here, princess?” Bellamy grumbled.  
“I’m here for Finn, not you Blake,” she answered.  
Bellamy muttered under his breath and went back to his reports.  
“Everything okay?” he heard Finn whisper.   
Out of the corner of his eye, Bellamy saw Clarke lean forward in her chair; her low cut tank top slipping lower on her chest. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Everything’ s okay. But I wanted to see you.”   
Bellamy pulled all of his attention toward her at that.   
“I wanted to apologize for the other day,” she said. “I just got mixed up with the wrong people and I’m trying to walk away from it.”   
That was the most sincere thing Bellamy had ever heard Clarke say. But then she sighed and leaned back against the chair and said, “You and I should go on a date.”   
Bellamy scoffed, loudly.   
“Something to say, Blake?” Clarke bit out.  
“Yeah, lots.”  
Clarke rolled her eyes and faced Finn again. His eyes were wide and a smile was playing at the edges of his lips.   
Idiot, Bellamy thought.   
“Yeah,” Finn said, excitedly. “I know a great sushi place!”   
Clarke let out a nervous chuckle and Bellamy noticed the slight crinkle in her nose but it was gone as fast as it had appeared.  
“Awesome. How’s Friday sound?” she asked.   
“Sounds great,” Finn reached forward and tucked a strand of her black hair behind her ear.   
Clarke flinched away, dragging in a breath and pulled the strand back out.   
Bellamy’s eyes narrowed on the action. She was definitely up to something.   
“Great,” she recovered. “I’ll see you then. You still have my number, yeah? Call me.”   
Clarke sauntered away, her hips swaying with an extra jaunt to them. Bellamy’s eyes zeroed in on her ass because, well, it was a great ass. And if Clarke was putting on a show, Bellamy wasn’t going to ignore it.   
“See?” Finn said from across his desk. “Patience and kindness and you’ll win the girl.” Finn’s smile was broad across his face and Bellamy felt a pang in his gut.   
“Yeah, man. That’s great,” he said, trying to sound sincere. “Hey,” Bellamy said. “I’m going to get a coffee. You want?”   
“Nah, I’m good. Thanks.”  
Bellamy rushed out of the precinct and saw Clarke leaning against her car, phone in hand and she was texting away, completely oblivious to Bellamy as he approached her.   
“Princess,” he called.   
She startled and nearly dropped her phone. “Fates,” she breathed. “What is your problem?”   
“Jumpy,” he noted. “So what was that back in there?” Bellamy grunted.  
“What do you mean?”  
“You give Collins the coldshoulder for two years and all of sudden you want to go have sushi with him? And I’m going to assume by your reaction in there that you don’t even like sushi.”  
Clarke ignored the fact that he was right. “This may be tough for you to grasp, Blake, but a girl is allowed to change her mind.”  
“Yeah, but you’re not like most girls,” he commented.   
Clarke smiled at that, and then brushed it away with a wave of her hand. “Look, I just changed my mind and Finn is a really nice guy.”  
“He is,” Bellamy said, stepping forward some more until he was a few inches of space from Clarke’s face. “So don’t play this game with him.”  
“What game?”  
“You’re using him,” he answered.   
“No I’m not,” Clarke said, immediately going on the defense.   
“I’m not Collins, Princess. I see through your bullshit. Now my question is what do you want from him?”  
“His company.”  
“Company?” Bellamy stepped closer to her, arms reaching out and caging her in. “If that’s all you wanted you could have come to me,” he winked. “No, you want something more.”  
Clarke felt the sweat seep from her palms. There was something about Bellamy Blake that left her feeling exposed, raw. It was both equal parts exhilarating and frightening.   
When it became clear that Clarke wasn’t going to be spilling any secrets about her endgame with Collins, Bellamy stepped back.   
“I’m going to find out what you’re up to, Princess.”  
“No, you’re not.”  
“So you admit you’re using Collins,” he said.  
“I admit nothing.”  
“God,” Bellamy groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Can you ever give a straight answer?”   
“Nothing in this world is ever white and black, Bellamy.”   
It was the first time Clarke had said his first name and Bellamy couldn’t shake the warmth that seeped into him at the name rolling off her tongue. He wanted to hear it again. And he hated that feeling. It gave her too much power.   
“I’ll tell him,” he warned. “You won’t get shit from him.”  
“I already told you, I’m not using him.”  
Bellamy sighed and walked back toward her, caging her in yet again. “Listen to me very carefully because I’m only going to say this once. Finn is my best friend, and if you think I’m going to let some spoiled, bratty rich princess use him, you’ve got another thing coming to you.”  
“You don’t know the first thing about me,” Clarke argued.   
“Using Collins to get whatever it is you want?” Bellamy scoffed. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I know something about you.”   
Clarke clenched her jaw.  
Bellamy chuckled humorlessly, already walking away from Clarke and her ridiculous antics.   
“Who I am and who I have to be to survive are two different things,” Clarke said to his retreating form.   
Bellamy stopped short. “Survive? Have you looked in a mirror, princess?” He shook his head, raking the form of her body. Her face looked worn, tired. The bags under her eyes were holding up eyes that were rimmed with red. Occasionally the light from the lamppost would reflect a sparkle of blue, but the rain drenched her too much for it to matter. “You look like you’re barely scarping by.”

 

Clarke tried not to let Bellamy’s words affect her too much. But damn, if he wasn’t spot on about her. She looked haggard. And while the rain was fueling her, it also made her look like a wet dog. Clarke felt the urge to punch the mirror in but held back. She needed to keep her composure.   
Her phone chimed on her desk and she sighed. It had to be Evan. She hadn’t heard from him since the other day but it was about time for another mission soon. When she read the text, she smiled. It was from Finn.   
Can’t wait for Friday  
In another life, Clarke would have called him and they would have talked for hours until she fell asleep to the sound of his voice. In another life, Clarke wouldn’t have to hide herself for fear that one of Cage’s men would find her and kill her. In another life, Clarke would be free, whole, and human. But this was her life. It was full of spells and rituals and alters. Her life was ruled by Aquaria and then Bellamy’s voice crept into her mind again… It looks like you’re barely scraping by… Maybe taking Kane’s offer wasn’t such a bad idea, Clarke thought. Maybe it was a way for her to be free, even if it was just an illusion.

 

Octavia wrapped herself up in her thick wool blanket beside her window. She checked her phone for the hundredth time hoping to hear from Atom, but again, there was nothing. She was starting to think Bellamy was right about Atom. She deserved better.  
A shadow from below her window moved and Octavia jumped trying to find it. Then she saw it.  
It was a man. He was wearing a bulky jacket, holding something in one hand and he took a step toward her window. Then Octavia saw his eyes. They were glowing.   
A chill swept down her spine and when his eyes lifted to hers, he took another step forward. Octavia gasped and then she screamed. The figure started running toward her window and, despite the fact that she was five stories up, Octavia was scared.   
She scrambled off her windowsill and ran into the hall only to crash into Bellamy’s chest.   
“Whoa, O,” Bellamy said, wrapping his sister up in his arms. “What’s wrong?” he asked.   
Octavia was hysterical, sobbing and trying to regain her breath.   
“I saw a man coming to my window,” she finally got out.   
“A man? What did he look like?”   
Octavia stopped. She wasn’t even sure of what she saw. But those eyes…those eyes she couldn’t ignore.  
“His eyes were glowing, Bell! Glowing!” Octavia continued to sob into Bellamy’s chest.  
“Okay, okay,” he soothed. Bellamy wasn’t sure what to believe. Maybe his sister was on some heavy drugs or maybe she was going crazy. But when he looked down at the sobbing girl in his arms, he could only remember one other time she was this afraid. It was when Octavia swore she saw their mother moving water. Actually moving it. Octavia had gone on and on about their mother using water to be stronger, but Octavia was five and Bellamy said it was just her overactive imagination.  
What if, Bellamy thought, Octavia wasn’t crazy. What if she could see things that he couldn’t? What if there were things in the shadows like men with glowing eyes?  
Bellamy shook his head. No, he told himself. Absolutely not.


	3. Chapter 3

Walking up the steps to Kane’s house was already making Clarke want to throw up her breakfast. This was a bad idea, she kept repeating to herself. Yet despite that, she knew she couldn’t turn back now. It was for her parents that she was doing this, giving herself up to his agenda, his control. That was Clarke’s life in a nutshell. A simple game of tug-o-war with her powers. All that mattered was who was in control of them. First it was Dante. Then it was Evan. Now it’s going to be Kane, Clarke thought.   
Each time she entered into a coven, it had its benefits. Swearing fealty to a coven leader strips away the burden of addiction that comes with using their abilities. It also means gaining the protection of the coven leader and all those in the coven. It creates a closeness and sense of familiarity for everyone searching for it. Clarke, however, wasn’t searching for it. She just needed it.   
Because there was always a downside to everything. Along with those benefits, swearing fealty meant the coven leader gains absolute control over how and when you use your abilities. He sends you on a mission and you go without question. If he says use your power for this, you do it – no questions asked. It sounds bad, but most of the time coven leaders are respectable and kind that they never exert any bad fortune or harm to their members.   
But something about Kane unsettled Clarke. He was hiding things, lots of things. He was evasive and cryptic. Clarke didn’t trust him for a second. But she remembered the pleading look in her Abby’s eyes, the strain in Jake’s face, and suddenly Clarke knew she had to do this. For them.  
“Take me to see Kane,” she said to the woman who answered the door.   
“Hello,” the woman greeted, a practiced smile tugging at her face. “Welcome to-”  
“Take me to see Kane, I won’t ask again,” Clarke bit out.   
The woman’s smile faded from her features and the grim line appeared, reminding Clarke that these people were fake bastards. “Right this way, coven killer.”   
The words were a slap to Clarke’s face. She had heard the term whispered around her whenever she walked among these people, but none of them ever had the courage to say it to her face.   
Clarke grit her teeth to keep from saying or doing something stupid. She followed the woman to the back of the mansion. The wood glistened against the light, giving the appearance of a recently polished home. A few kids ran in between Clarke and the woman, forcing Clarke to stop and let them run past. One of the little girls stopped to wave and smile at Clarke. Clarke couldn’t help but smile back.   
“You can go in,” the woman bit out, drawing Clarke back to face the door they reached.   
“Thanks,” Clarke muttered. She wasted no more time lingering and she threw the door back, smiling with satisfaction as it hit the wall behind her. “Kane.”   
“Ah,” Kane said, rising from his pristine desk. “Welcome, Clarke. Take a seat.” Clarke stood at the end of his table. “Or stand,” he chuckled.   
“Let’s get this over with, Kane. You want me to swear fealty.” Clarke admired her ability to maintain her bluntness even though she wanted to scream at him.  
“Yes, but I assure you, I am not looking to control you.”   
“Well we both know that’s a load of bullshit,” Clarke said, a smirk on her lips.  
“It’s the truth. I know your mother said you were concerned with giving up your abilities to me.”  
“I’m not concerned. I just don’t want to do it. My powers are my own, not for anyone else to use as they please.”  
“Is that you talking or the addiction?”   
Clarke crossed her arms, hating that everyone seemed to know about her addiction to her powers.   
“Clarke,” Kane started coming up to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, one which she shrugged off.   
She came to sit on the chair opposite his. “Let’s do this already.” Clarke couldn’t ignore the smallest part of her that was happy to be rid of her addiction once she swore fealty to Kane, but the larger part of her screamed to get the hell out of that room.   
“You know that’s not how this works,” he said. “We need to hold a ceremony.”  
“Right,” she scoffed. “Because this is something worth celebrating.” Clarke shook her head.   
“Clarke,” said Kane. He kneeled down beside her chair. His hand rested atop her bouncing knee, effectively stopping it. “I swear to you,” he started.   
Clarke had to gulp past those words because having a coven leader swear to you was nothing to joke about. It was putting his reputation on the line. That’s why swearing fealty to a coven leader was such a big deal that it required a ceremony. Promises were a big deal.  
“I will not use your powers against you, or use them in a way that harms you. I will never put you through what you cannot handle,” said Kane.  
Clarke felt her heart chip a little. No one had ever sworn such a thing to her, and she desperately wanted to believe him, but she just couldn’t. Her gut kept screaming at her that something didn’t seem right with him. The knowledge that he was keeping secrets from his coven didn’t sit well with Clarke.   
Kane sighed as he saw Clarke’s resolve, knowing she wasn’t going to believe him so readily. “Clarke, you are by far the most powerful Aquaria in your generation,” said Kane.   
“We both know that came at a price,” muttered Clarke.  
Kane stopped and nodded. He couldn’t forget that either. “It did. But that means you have all the qualities of being a coven leader. You need to be taught and shown the ways.”  
Clarke was already shaking her head. “No, I didn’t ask for that. I’m not asking for that.”  
“You and I both know someone of your ability cannot be allowed to waste away without a coven. Either you join or you lead.”   
That was the line Clarke was waiting for. The line that took away all her options, all her freedom, and left her at the bottom of a hole she dug herself and no one cared to help her out.  
Clarke’s silence was enough to let Kane know he had gotten through. He waved a hand at her. “Come back tonight. The ceremony takes place at sundown.”   
Clarke left Kane’s with a bitter taste in her mouth. Yup, there went the espresso she had that morning – all over Kane’s front lawn. 

 

Bellamy kept thinking back to the day he and Collins picked up Clarke at that house. The smell of burning flesh couldn’t be explained. He had no idea why they were torturing Atom. But then he recalled what Evan had said through the door…What are you doing to do with the footage?...  
Footage. Atom’s footage. That was Bellamy’s in.   
It took him fifteen minutes to drive to the address listed in Atom’s file and was surprised to see he lived in such a nice neighborhood. There were nice homes, kids riding bikes, people walking their dogs. But then Bellamy turned the corner.   
A little run down apartment complex came into view. The grass was dried up and the gate was chipping away, the lock not even holding in place. Bellamy went inside and went straight for A105 – Atom’s apartment.   
Bellamy knocked on the door. “Atom, open up it’s LAPD.”   
There was a sound of things knocking over and a silent curse before the door burst open. “Can I help…” the words died off Atom’s lips when he recognized Bellamy.  
“I haven’t been near your sister, I swear,” Atom said immediately.   
Bellamy recalled the man Octavia claimed was running toward her window and said “good to know,” before he stepped inside Atom’s apartment.   
“Did you need something?” Atom asked.  
“Yeah, actually, I do,” said Bellamy, crossing his arms over his chest. “I want the footage.”  
Atom visibly gulped. A heartbeat later, he ran for the front door again. He had enough time to swing the door open and get one foot out before Bellamy wrapped a hand at the back collar of his shirt and yanked Atom back in.   
“Hold on,” Bellamy grunted. “I can keep you safe.”   
“No you can’t,” Atom cried. “They’ll kill me.”  
“Who? Clarke?” Bellamy shook his head. “The princess isn’t capable of murder.”   
Atom just kept shaking his head and started to tremble in Bellamy’s hands. Alright, thought Bellamy, enough playing nice.  
“The way I see it, Atom,” said Bellamy, his voice dropping dangerously low. “You either give me that footage and I keep you safe from whoever you’re worried about, or I let Evan know that you talked to me. Then you’re as good as dead.”   
Atom whimpered before shaking his head. “Either way, I’m dead.” Bellamy released him and followed Atom into a room where he had three computer monitors set up.  
Bellamy eyed them skeptically and when Atom saw his gaze he chuckled. “Makes for an awesome porn experience.”   
Bellamy shot him a look that said if he didn’t shut up he was going to kill him.   
Atom sighed before pulling out a flashdrive. He sighed and before he handed it over to Bellamy’s waiting hands, he cleared his throat. “You have to promise I’ll be kept safe.”  
“You really think they’ll kill you for this?” asked Bellamy.  
“Without a doubt,” said Atom.   
Bellamy sighed. “Then yes, I guarantee your safety. Now hand over the drive.”  
With the flashdrive finally in Bellamy’s hands, Bellamy found himself smiling at it. This is his chance for some answers.   
“Whatever you’re hoping to find on there,” said Atom, jarring Bellamy from his thoughts. “It’s much worse.”

 

With Atom’s warning still ringing in Bellamy’s ears, he waited until the precinct was relatively empty to watch the footage. Slipping the flashdrive into his computer nearly gave him a heart attack because he didn’t know what to expect.   
Finding the footage was easy. There was only one file on the drive and only one clip labled “ALIENS??” Bellamy opened it up.  
It opened with an older man formally dressed, suit and tie, dress shoes – the whole nine yards. He had graying hair and a lanky frame to him. He was talking to someone hidden from frame. Wherever Atom was filming this from it was from a small space, probably the bushes judging by the amount of rustling Bellamy could hear in the audio.   
The old man stepped forward. “Don’t let my son fool you. We both know the lies he tells to save himself.”  
“You would know. You taught him how to manipulate,” the voice on the other end sounded familiar, but Atom kept fidgeting that the leaves rustling distracted Bellamy too much.   
Then the person stepped into frame. Bellamy’s eyes widened. It was Clarke.  
“He manipulated everyone the same way you manipulated me. I never should have sworn fealty to you!” There was a rumble off camera but Bellamy thought it sounded like thunder. The time stamp on the file says October 23rd. That was ten days ago, Bellamy thought. Bellamy couldn’t recall having experienced rain until the freak storm that rolled in a few days ago. So he went to check the weather for that day. It wasn’t supposed to be raining that day.   
He continued watching the footage.  
“Clarke,” the older man warned. “You don’t have enough power to sustain this. You’ll kill yourself.”   
Bellamy leaned forward in his chair as if reaching to hear the words. Atom had started moving again.   
“Not if you’re dead first, old man.” Another voice.   
Bellamy knew that voice. It was Evan. Now Bellamy was starting to get it. Evan killed this old guy, Clarke helped, and Atom shot the whole thing.   
“She won’t do it,” the old man said. “Not without my say so.”  
“Unless you’re not the only one she’s sworn fealty to,” Evan said, smirking.  
Something changed in the atmosphere. The rain started to fall and the old guy looked nervous.  
“It’s not possible,” he sneered. “You cannot swear twice at once!”   
Clarke was soaked from head to toe and she stepped up to the man, an unnerving smile on her face. Bellamy had never seen such malice on her before. And when she gripped the collar of this man’s shirt, Bellamy started to get nervous. No, he thought, it’s not supposed to be you.  
“My promise to you broke the moment you broke yours to me, Dante,” said Clarke.   
Something glistened in her hand and Atom zoomed in to try and catch it. It was a knife.   
Bellamy’s palms began to sweat. He did not want to sit there and watch Clarke, a spoiled brat he was just taunting the other day, kill a man in cold blood.  
The old man’s fear slowly dissipated and he was left empty, broken. “I did what I had to do to save my people,” he said.   
Clarke flinched at his words and Bellamy desperately clung to the hope that she turned and left, leaving this man alone.   
She took a step back, but then Evan took the knife from her hand.   
“It has to be done with Aquaria, Clarke. You know that,” said Evan, his voice dripping with venom.  
Bellamy had to reign in his surprise when all of a sudden Evan jabbed the knife into the old man’s side and Atom scrambled. In the chaos of his movements, Evan and Clarke’s attention followed the sound of Atom’s movements.  
“Shit,” Atom said.  
“Lincoln,” Evan called out. “Take care of that.”  
Atom’s camera filled with blackness before settling on a figure that was creeping closer to him. Then, much to Bellamy’s disbelief, the figure’s eyes started to glow.   
Bellamy paused the video. Could this be what Octavia saw? What exactly it was, Bellamy wasn’t sure. But it seemed there was one person who did. Clarke Griffin.   
He un-paused the video.  
“Wait,” Clarke’s voice rang out.  
The guy with the glowing eyes stopped for a second.   
“Don’t kill him. Tie him up and load him in. We’ll take him back and find out what he really knows,” she said.   
The video ended there and Bellamy had no idea what to make of any of it. He still wasn’t sure if Clarke had killed that man or if Evan did. Based off the video, Bellamy had enough evidence to assume Evan killed him. But there was something in Clarke’s menacing smile that made Bellamy second-guess exactly what this girl was capable of. The only thing he managed to take away was that Clarke Griffin was definitely not the person he thought she was. And he had every intention of finding out exactly who, or what, she is.  
He needed to find a way to get closer to Clarke.

 

It seemed like deja-vu to Clarke, her ascending the steps to Kane’s mansion except she was dressed in her best blue gown and strappy sandals. Her mother had laid them out and demanded Clarke put them on. She also left a box of blonde hair dye on her night stand, telling her that it was time to set things back to normal. But Clarke drew the line there. She wore the dress and shoes with a grimace but refused to change her hair back. It was still too dangerous.   
The mansion door was already open for her and candals along the wood floor led the way into the large viewing room where a circle was formed. People hovered along the outskirts of the circle. Clarke couldn’t ignore the glares they sent her. They didn’t want Clarke there and Clarke couldn’t blame them.   
She ran her hands down the length of her dress to wipe away the sweat there. She was surprised she was nervous, but then she saw her mother standing near the entrance of the circle and remembered why she was doing this.   
Clarke wasn’t surprised that her dad wasn’t there. Humans weren’t allowed at fealty ceremonies, even if her dad knew all about their societies secrets. She hated Kane for keeping her father away from this because it also meant he wasn’t allowed the same protection that her mom got from Kane, and now the same protection Clarke would get. It was all bitter sweet.  
“Welcome, Clarke,” said Kane from inside the circle. Only the coven leader and the one swearing fealty were allowed in the circle. So Clarke was surprised when she stepped in and Abby followed.  
“What is this?” Clarke asked. She exchanged a questioning stare at both Kane and Abby.   
“Considering your last fealty was broken under rather unusual circumstances,” said Kane. “We decided to add an extra layer of protection.”   
Clarke chuckled humorlessly and openly glared at Kane. “You bastard.”  
“Can you blame him, coven killer?” someone outside the circle yelled.  
Clarke shook her head in disbelief. She couldn’t blame him actually. This way, if Clarke should break the promise, her mother would die first. It was a smart move, but one that scared Clarke more than dying at the hands of Cage’s men.   
“Let’s get started,” he said. “Kneel,” he ordered.   
Clarke felt her mom’s hand at her back and together they kneeled in the circle at Kane’s feet.   
“May the Fates protect us,” Kane started.  
“And so we serve,” answered the collective people.   
“We gather here to welcome and embrace our fellow witch, Clarke Griffin.”   
There were a few murmurs through the crowd and Clarke shifted on her knees.   
“We let go of her past transgressions and prepare to bathe her in a new light,” said Kane, pointedly. “Clarke, take this blessed knife, cloaked with the powers that guide you, and swear your own fealty as I have to this coven.”  
Clarke took the knife from Kane’s hand and immediately a spark ran through her body. She could feel Aquaria in it. She took a deep breath before slicing her palm open and letting blood fall into the bucket of water by her knees.   
“With this I bind to thee, coven leader, my powers and allegiance.” Clarke felt her throat closing up and she started to tremble. “So that your will can become my own, and so Aquaria can help encourage your goal, I swear to thee.” A tear slipped down Clarke’s cheek.  
Abby reached for the same knife. “Fates that guide, let me serve to protect this fealty sworn.” Abby cut her palm and bled into the same bucket. “Should this pact be broken, take the life of my own, and spare the lives of the coven.”  
“From the promise land, to the ears of the Fates,” finished Kane.  
“To the ears of the Fates,” said everyone, including Clarke.   
And so it was done. Clarke belonged to Kane, to the coven.   
The people dispersed soon after. Only a few stayed to congratulate Clarke and give her a small pat on the back.   
“You now have my protection,” said Kane, dragging her attention back. “And now,” he waved another man to his side and passed him a file. “Your first mission.”  
Clarke couldn’t believe she was already being sent out and used when she had only been sworn in a few seconds ago. “And so it begins,” she muttered under her breath. Although the look Kane gave her said he had heard that.  
She opened up the file and was surprised to see a photo of Octavia Blake clipped to it. “What is this?”   
“We need you to get close to Octavia Blake.”  
“For what?”  
Kane gave her a hard look.  
“Right,” Clarke chucked. “No questions.” This wasn’t a good way to start things off for Clarke. But she couldn’t question her coven leader.  
“I’m on it, commander Kane,” she joked, giving him a salute. Clarke walked out of the circle, feeling a weight lift from her shoulder.  
“And Clarke,” Kane stopped her.   
Clarke turned to face him.   
“No powers,” he said.   
Clarke gulped. It was true she didn’t feel the need to use her powers as much, the fealty having taken some of her addiction. But just knowing she couldn’t use her powers at all left a sour taste in her mouth. She wasn’t sure how long that would last. But then she recalled her mother kneeling beside her in the circle. Clarke had to obey. Or else her mother would pay the price.   
Clarke gave Kane a nod and prepared herself to get close to Octavia Blake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review! XO..


	4. Chapter 4

Friday afternoon rolled around too slow for Bellamy’s liking. Captain Jaha was kind enough to give him the rest of the day off to spend with his sister, but if Bellamy was being honest to himself, he wouldn’t mind just catching up on some sleep and ordering take-out. It could also have something to do with the amount of frustration he’s harboring toward Clarke and Evan and this whole Aquaria case. Bellamy wasn’t even sure what Aquaria even meant or what it was.   
Despite Bellamy’s efforts, he couldn’t get a location on Clarke. Not even Jake Griffin knew where his daughter was the past two days. Apparently she hadn’t been attending her classes at the local college and since she didn’t have many friends, no one knew where she was. Jake didn’t seem troubled by it, and Bellamy suspected he knew something about the situation and that’s why he wasn’t so concerned. But that was all speculation.  
So it wasn’t hard to imagine Bellamy’s surprise when he walked into his apartment that Friday afternoon and found Octavia and Clarke sitting at the counter, munching on sandwiches.   
“Bell,” exclaimed Octavia. She shot off the stool and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “This is Clarke, Clarke this is my brother, Bellamy.”   
“The princess and I have already met,” bit out Bellamy.   
Clarke chuckled from her stool. “Of course,” she said. “Officer Blake, the cop who has a tendency to ask all the wrong questions.”  
“And Clarke Griffin, the girl who has a tendency to evade every question known to man.”   
“Uh,” Octavia threw in. “Am I missing something?”  
“Your new friend here has had her fair share of run-ins with the law, isn’t that true, princess?”  
“Clarke?” Octavia questioned. “Is it true?”  
Clarke held back her smirk. Bellamy played a dirty game but this wasn’t Clarke’s first rodeo. Clarke sighed and swallowed past the lump in her throat. Then she nodded her head and let it fall. “Yeah,” she whispered. “That’s why I really wanted that job at Daisy’s Café. I just want to start over.”   
Clarke felt Octavia reach her side and wrap an arm around her shoulders. “Hey,” she said. “You don’t have to worry about your past with me.”   
Octavia was a good person, Clarke realized. Whatever plot Kane had against her, Clarke was almost positive that Octavia didn’t deserve it. She smiled at Octavia, a silent ‘thank you’ passing between the two.  
Bellamy threw his head back and shook it. “Whatever.”  
“Bell!” Octavia reprimanded. “Don’t be such an ass.”  
Bellamy blew past them and reached into his fridge to take out a beer and couldn’t help but listen in on their conversation.  
“We should have a sleepover tonight,” said Octavia. “You look like you could use it.” She nudged her shoulder against Clarke’s and they chuckled.  
“I’d love to but-”  
“Princess has a sushi date tonight,” Bellamy interrupted. “Don’t you?”  
“You do?!” Octavia asked, pouncing on her for details.  
“Yeah, with Collins,” answered Bellamy. Bellamy laughed loudly when Clarke glared at him over Octavia’s head.   
“Man, I love sushi too,” mentioned Octavia absentmindedly.   
Clarke perked up in her stool. She had Kane’s mission to get close to Octavia, but she also had her own mission to get files on Dante and Cage Wallace from Finn. There was no reason she couldn’t kill two birds with one stone.  
“Why don’t you come along?” Clarke blurted out. “You could invite that guy you were telling me about!”   
Bellamy choked on his beer at that. “Excuse me?”  
“Yeah, I can give Atom a call!” Octavia was already darting out of the kitchen and straight into her room where she started talking animatedly on the phone.  
Clarke smiled to herself. Octavia was an easy girl to please and she was fun to be around. Clarke actually felt herself loosening up a bit. So it churned Clarke’s insides to think that Kane could taint that image, or ruin Octavia past the point of return.  
Clarke saw Bellamy’s arm reach out, beer in hand, to the other side of her. It caged her in between Bellamy’s chest and the counter.   
“What are you up to, Clarke?” he asked, voice low and dangerous. Clarke felt a small moment of desire course through her, imagining all the other dirty things he could say with that voice.  
“Absolutely nothing, Bellamy,” she answered back, voice just as low.   
Bellamy glared down at her, watched the rise and fall of her chest, the way the ends of her black hair played with the tops of her breast, and his mouth watered. Then Clarke’s tongue darted out to lick her lips and Bellamy almost lost it right then and there.   
What the hell, he thought. He cleared his throat and cursed himself for losing sight of the goal. He didn’t know a damn thing about Clarke. And now that she was hanging all over his sister, he intended to find out exactly what her endgame was.  
“If any harm comes to my sister,” Bellamy threatened. “I will kill you myself.”   
“Don’t make empty threats at me, Bellamy.” Clarke straightened in her stool, her chest coming tantalizingly close to brushing Bellamy’s. “I don’t know what you think you know, but I promise you, no harm will come to your sister from me.”  
Bellamy opened his mouth to say something but she stopped him by placing her hand over his mouth. Bellamy’s eyes widened at her boldness but he didn’t move.  
“I like your sister, Bellamy. I like the kind of person she is and the kind of person she makes me. I won’t hurt her.” Clarke didn’t let her gaze falter from his. She wouldn’t be the one to break the staring match first. She meant what she said and, even though she knew Bellamy would have no idea what the context was of Clarke’ s declaration, she was sure that even he could feel her sincerity.   
Bellamy’s hand came out and gripped Clarke’s wrist. A jolt spread through Clarke, starting from her wrist where Bellamy touched her, and traveled down to her toes. It was so unlike the jolts she felt when she was near or in water. This had nothing to do with her power, and everything to do with her own body. It was a new kind of exhilaration.   
“You better be telling the truth,” he said, trying with all his might to prove that her closeness and her touch had no affect on him.   
“I am,” she answered immediately. “But,” she then said, pushing Bellamy back and getting up from her stool. “If you’re so worried about it, then come with us.”  
Octavia had come back from her room with a huge grin attached to her face. “He said he’ll be there!” she cheered.   
“Awesome,” said Clarke. Then she turned back to Bellamy. “So? How about it?”   
“Oh are you inviting Bell too? Yes, please come! You can properly meet Atom,” said Octavia.   
Clarke smirked at Bellamy, already knowing he wouldn’t tell Octavia anything about Atom and his involvement with Clarke and Evan. It would only hurt Octavia and ruin whatever was starting between her and Clarke. So Bellamy had no other choice but to agree. And, this way, he could keep a watchful eye on both Octavia and Clarke. 

The restaurant was packed. So already Bellamy was put off by it. Yet he couldn’t help but smirk when he noticed Clarke’s discomfort too.   
“Not into large crowds?” he muttered in her ear.   
Clarke flinched away, a small glimmer of real fear in her eyes. “I hate them.”  
Luckily, the hostess lead them away from most of the hectic crowd and opened up a door that hosted the more private rooms. Of course Collins would be putting out all the stops for this girl, Bellamy thought as they sat on cushions around a table. Not sure how it happened, but Bellamy wound up sitting beside Clarke with Finn on the other side, leaving Octavia directly across from Clarke and an open space for Atom.  
“Thanks for being okay with this,” Clarke whispered to Finn. The room was entirely quiet though so whispering to him didn’t make a difference – everyone heard.   
“Of course,” he answered, a tight smile on his face. “I just didn’t know you were friends with Bellamy’s sister.”  
“I just started working at Daisy’s with her and we just clicked,” Clarke smiled at Octavia.   
“That and you almost broke the espresso machine!” Octavia teased. She was gripping her cell phone tightly in her hand, glancing at it every few seconds. Atom hadn’t met them at the restaurant like he said he would.  
“I’m sure he’s just running late, O,” said Bellamy.   
“Yeah,” she mumbled in answer. Something wasn’t right, Octavia thought. Atom was not one to be late for a date with her.   
“Maybe there’s traffic,” Clarke suggested.   
“Most likely,” answered Bellamy. “He lives right next to the freeway that’s always packed with traffic.”  
Clarke dropped her chopsticks she had just finished unwrapping. “What?”  
Bellamy shrugged and went to unwrap his own chopsticks.   
“You know where he lives?” Clarke asked.  
“I’m a cop, princess, of course I know where he lives.”  
Clarke fell silent for a few moments. The waitress came in and poured water into everyone’s cup then left. The silence hadn’t left though. Clarke adjusted her legs. She hated this about sushi places. Her legs could never last long being crossed like they were supposed to.   
“Clarke, how are classes going?” Finn asked, angling his body toward hers.  
“Did you go to his apartment?” Clarke asked Bellamy instead, ignoring Finn’s question.  
“What does it matter?” Bellamy asked, exasperated. He slammed the water glass down, already knowing he messed up when he mentioned Atom’s place.  
“Is something going on here?” Octavia asked, her voice rising.  
“Atom was at the precinct when I was taken in, Octavia,” Clarke answered her.   
Octavia’s mouth fell open and her eyes widened. She hadn’t expected to hear that. And, not even sure what that meant now, Octavia dialed Atom’s number again.   
Clarke directed her attention back to Bellamy, her nerves making her palms sweat. “Bellamy,” she bit out. “Did you go to his apartment?”   
“So what if I did? I’m a cop. I have every right to question him,” Bellamy finally answered. He took another sip from his water, watching Clarke from the corner of his eye.  
“You idiot,” she said. Clarke was up and flying out the door in a matter of seconds.  
“Clarke, what’s wrong?” Finn called.   
She turned around for a split moment. “I’m sorry!” Then she was gone.   
Bellamy gulped past a lump in his throat and then recalled Atom’s fear of getting caught.   
“No,” Bellamy mumbled to himself. “There’s no way.” Then he too was out of his seat and rushing after Clarke.  
“Bell!” Octavia yelled after him.   
“Take her home, Finn! Make sure she’s safe!” He barely saw Finn nod before he was out of the restaurant and in his car. It didn’t take him long to find Clarke running along the side of the road. He sped up and pulled up slightly along her path, forcing her to slow and stop when she recognized it was Bellamy.  
“Get in,” he commanded. He saw her moment of indecisiveness. “You’ll get there faster if you just get in.”  
Clarke swore under her breath and got into his car, strapped the seat belt around her, and pulled out her phone. Bellamy watched as she typed frantically, then dialed a number, cursed, and then threw the phone onto the floor of his car.  
“Clarke,” he said, his voice every bit as series. “Tell me what’s happening.”  
“You fucked up, Bellamy. You fucked up big time.” That was Clarke’s only answer for him. Her knee wouldn’t stop bouncing and she never once looked at Bellamy, like she was ashamed of him and couldn’t bear to see his face.   
Bellamy swore and pressed his foot harder on the gas. He was getting nervous.   
“I put a protection detail on him,” he whispered in the darkness of his car.   
Clarke didn’t respond to it though.  
They pulled up to Atom’s apartment complex ten minutes later and Clarke threw herself from the car, not even bothering to wait till it came to a complete stop. Bellamy grabbed the gun from his glove compartment and chased after her, trying to keep right on her toes. But with her head start he was falling a little behind. He saw her disappear into Atom’s apartment and when he approached, gun raised, his jaw fell open.   
The door was singed off its hinges, little clouds of smoke still slithering away from it. The knob had melted away. The inside of his apartment was a mess. The furniture was overturned, piles of ashes were scattered around the floor, and the smell of burnt flesh was prominent in the air. Bellamy’s eyes finally settled on Clarke crouched by a body on the floor. Bellamy didn’t want to think about the body on the floor or what it meant. Then he heard a voice.  
“Please,” it whimpered. It was from the body on the floor. Bellamy came up behind Clarke and knelt on the other side of the body.   
He was almost unrecognizable. There were blisters, burns, charred skin tearing off from his bones, but Bellamy could tell from his bright eyes. It was Atom. He was wheezing, struggling to remain still and he was pleading with both Bellamy and Clarke. Bellamy couldn’t. He just couldn’t. He ducked his head away and instead took to watching Clarke. She must think him a coward. Here he was, a cop, and he couldn’t put Atom out of his misery. Hell, he couldn’t even protect him. Bellamy had failed.  
Clarke reached out and placed her hand on Bellamy’s. She wasn’t looking at him, but just her touch was enough at that moment. Bellamy took a breath and watched Atom again.   
“I’m sorry,” Bellamy whispered. “I’m so sorry.”  
Clarke reached for a sharp shard of glass beside her and carefully caressed Atom’s hair. “I didn’t want this,” she whispered to him.   
Atom looked at her, a tear escaping the corner of his eye. “I know,” he responded. His breath caught in his throat and Bellamy watched Clarke press the shard into his neck. The blood rushed out of him, and slipped from his mouth too, and Clarke began to hum. She didn’t stop humming until Atom’s breath stopped and she closed his eyes.   
They were silent for what felt like hours before Bellamy touched the inside of Clarke’s wrist, the same hand that was still clutching the glass shard.  
“Clarke,” he said, tentatively. “I have to call this in.”  
That seemed to snap Clarke out of wherever she had gone, and she got to her feet. “Do what you have to,” she said. She dropped the shard to the ground and went back to the door.  
“Wait, Clarke,” Bellamy called after her. “You can’t leave.”   
“You do what you have to, Bellamy, and I’ll do what I have to.” Clarke bolted from the door and Bellamy remained still until her footsteps were gone. He watched Atom’s body and felt his hand reach for his phone.  
“This is Officer Blake, I need to call in a murder.” He gave them the address and got to his feet. “I’m in pursuit of the potential killer,” he muttered before hanging up. He wasn’t letting Clarke away that easily. Not this time.   
She must have taken a cab, Bellamy thought. It was the only way she could make it halfway across town in the amount of time she did. And thankfully, she picked up her cell phone from his car before she bolted. That was how Bellamy was able to track her. His cell phone rang again, the twentieth call of the night. Half were from Collins and the other half from Octavia. But Bellamy didn’t want to talk to anyone until he figured out what was going on.   
He pulled up to a warehouse. There were three cars already parked out by the entrance and Bellamy strapped his gun onto the belt of his pants. There was no telling what he’d find in there but if Clarke was in there, he had to go. He already failed Atom. He wouldn’t let anything happen to Clarke.

“EVAN,” Clarke yelled. “Get your ass out here right now.”  
Clarke cringed when she heard a chorus of laughter, taunting and menacing. He had guests. She saw Murphy exit the office and Evan not far behind. Trailing after them like a puppy was Monroe.   
“You got Murphy involved in this?” Clarke screamed.   
“He helped us wipe away the evidence. They won’t trace it back to us,” Monroe answered.   
“I need to talk to Evan alone,” Clarke retorted. She waved a hand at Murphy and Monroe. “Go!”   
“Go ahead, guys. Give us some space, but stay close.” Evan went back into his office and Clarke followed after him. Once the door closed, Clarke let out a guttural yell as she mustered up some of her strength and shoved Evan against the wall. He grunted and clawed at her hand, but when Clarke was channeling her power, she couldn’t be stopped. Her eyes were glistening blue, anger tearing at her skin, and she pressed harder against his throat.   
“You didn’t have to kill him,” she breathed against his face.   
Evan reached a hand toward her arm and bit down on the inside of his cheek, using that pain and anger to channel his own power. Clarke yelped as the skin around her arm sizzled and charred. She released Evan and took a step back, her back hitting the end of his desk.   
Evan took a predatory step forward. “There’s something different about you,” he said. He was in front of Clarke in a matter of seconds, his hand wrapping at the base of her neck, and dragging her face forward. His lips hovered over hers. “You swore fealty,” he said, breathing in her lavender scent.   
Clarke’s silence was answer enough.   
He yanked her head back and she yelped again, biting down on her lip.   
“I broke my promise to you months ago, Evan, what do you care?” Clarke itched to use her powers against him, not just her strength. But she had to be careful. Her mother’s life was on the line if she used them.   
A knock came at the door. “Boss?” It was Monroe. “We got a situation out here.”  
Evan and Clarke followed him out and Clarke made forward when she saw Bellamy Blake held at gunpoint by Murphy.   
“What the hell?” Clarke yelled.  
“Princess,” Bellamy said, teeth gritted against his jaw. “You want to tell me what my co-worker is doing with a gun to my head?” Bellamy tried to turn his head toward Murphy, but Murphy pressed the gun harder against his temple.  
“Hey,” Clarke yelled and stepped forward, ready to tackle Murphy to the ground.   
She didn’t care if Murphy was a cop. He couldn’t take her in without implementing himself. But there was something about seeing Bellamy on the ground with a gun to his head that left a sour taste in Clarke’s mouth and a rage bubbling inside her.  
“You making friends with law enforcement now, babe?” Evan said, reaching an arm around Clarke’s shoulders to stop her from running to Bellamy.  
“Let him go, Evan, he was nothing to do with this.” Clarke tried to brush off his arm but he wasn’t letting loose.  
Bellamy watched closely at Evan’s arm, wanting to chop it off and then run out of there with Clarke. But as he watched, he noticed Evan’s hand turning slightly red. It pressed into Clarke’s shoulder and she yelped. She tried to jump out of his reach but then he reached around and grabbed Clarke’s neck too.   
The smell of burning flesh assaulted Bellamy’s nose and then it hit him. Evan was the one who was torturing Atom. He was the one who caused the smell of burning flesh. Because he was burning the flesh. What the hell is he? Bellamy wondered. And now he’s doing the same to Clarke.   
“Stop!” Bellamy yelled. He tried to ignore the gun pressing against the side of his head.   
Evan laughed. “Look at that! Clarke’s got herself a new pet!” He released Clarke’s neck and Bellamy’s eyes narrowed on the red that marred her skin.   
“Tell me,” Evan said, bringing back Bellamy’s attention. He was talking to Clarke though. “Does he know what you’ve done?” Evan stepped closer and brought his lips to Clarke’s neck, biting down on the red marks he left behind. “Does he know how you killed to get what you want?” Evan yelled in her ear.   
Clarke let out a scream as the skin on her hip started to burn. She hadn’t even felt Evan’s hands moving.   
“I know!” Bellamy yelled, trying to get up off the floor. “I know about Aquaria!”   
That got everyone’s attention. Evan let Clarke go and she fell to the ground in a sweat. Evan stalked toward Bellamy and Murphy lowered his gun and took a step back.  
“No,” Clarke started to mumble. She kept repeating it and tried to drag Evan’s attention back to her. “He’s lying, Evan! He doesn’t know anything!”   
Evan crouched until he was right in Bellamy’s face. “So you know,” he said, a smirk on his lips. “Then you know that everywhere that girl goes, death follows. And you already know I’ll have to kill you.”  
“Like you killed Atom? Burn my flesh off?” Bellamy was baiting him and it was a bad idea to do it. But he couldn’t help it. He saw Clarke’s red marks, saw the flesh burned, and saw her balled up on the ground and he felt rage. The way she handled Atom, the way she comforted Bellamy without him even realizing he wanted the comfort, it was proof that Clarke Griffin had a heart. She wasn’t a bad person. She just got mixed up with the wrong people.   
“I am going to burn you to ash,” Evan chuckled. Then he followed Bellamy’s line of sight straight to Clarke. “And I’m going to let her watch.”   
Clarke broke into a sprint and tackled Evan to the ground. She threw punches and then Bellamy was on the attack. He whipped around and threw Murphy’s arm out and slapped the gun out of his hand. A swift kick to his shin and one more kick to his face, and Murphy was down for the count.   
Bellamy saw another younger kid, Monroe, hovering by the office door but the kid was already shaking to the core. Then Monroe ran away.  
A strangled gasp brought Bellamy’s attention to Clarke and Evan. Their positions had changed and Clarke was suddenly the one under Evan being choked. When she tried to use her weight to throw him off her, he punched her side and she fell back.  
“Without your powers, you’re useless,” Evan screamed. “You shouldn’t have sworn fealty!”  
Bellamy rushed for the gun on the ground, his gun, and aimed it at Evan’s head.  
“Let her go,” Bellamy growled.   
Evan loosened his hold on Clarke’s throat by a fraction. “You going to shoot me, Officer?” Evan taunted.  
“If you don’t let her go, yes.”  
Clarke let out a scream as her skin melted away from her neck and Bellamy noticed Evan’s eyes glowing red.   
“What the hell are you?” Bellamy breathed.   
“I’m a Firestarter,” Evan said. “And you have no idea who you’re messing with.”  
“But I do,” said a voice from the warehouse entrance. Clarke’s screams subsided to mere gasps as both Evan and Bellamy watched the entrance, seeing a man standing there with three other people - two younger boys and a frazzled looking girl. “Clarke,” the man said. “Use your powers.”  
Everything happened in a blur after that. Within seconds, Clarke was up and over Evan, using her hips to pin him down. When her fist connected with his jaw, it created a deafening crack that echoed throughout the warehouse. Evan roared through the pain and his hands turned red, ready to burn Clarke to ashes.   
A smirk showed up on her face though, and her eyes were as blue as the ocean, shining and inviting. She placed her hands on top of his and with a sizzle, they created a vapor that released from their hands, and Evan’s fire was put out. Still attached to his hands, Clarke went deeper. Her cooling hands, her Aquaria, was racing itself through Evan’s bloodstream and putting out all his rage, all his fire. Pockets of steam kept coming off their entwined hands and Clarke didn’t relent. She couldn’t stop until Evan was put out. Finally, with a scream, Evan fell limp underneath her and she let out a loud breath as she fell forward. Her hands felt numb and her body spent. But Evan was subdued for now.  
Clarke got up slowly, her legs feeling like water, and then Bellamy was there behind her to help her up. She let her weight fall against him and she looked toward the entrance. Bellamy caught her breathless laugh and followed her line of sight.  
Marcus Kane had made it just in time.

Octavia was restless in the apartment. She had been calling Bellamy’s cell phone for hours now and still no response. The quiet of the apartment, the loneliness she felt in her bones, it was finally getting to her. A soft knock came from the front door and she gulped as she went to answer it. Much to her surprise, no one was there.  
A chill swept through her when she noticed something on the floor by her feet. It was a note attached to a blue gemstone.  
Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. And how I long to behold thee.  
It was weird, to say the least. Octavia had to admit that. But, she also had to admit how romantic that sounded. Maybe it was from Atom? Or maybe she had a secret admirer. It wouldn’t be the first time. She had a few who would buy her drinks at the café but it was really easy to tell which guys were trying to ask her out. This was chilling in that she had never received one at home, in the place she lived.   
But when she touched the blue stone, Octavia felt a peace and reassurance flow throughout her body. Whoever sent this to her, she wanted to know him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finals week all this week and I'm studying my ass off, so some reviews for this new chapter are so very welcome and appreciated! Tell me what you think so far. Any predictions for where this is going? What do you hope to see in future chapters? Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

“Let me see her!” Bellamy yelled.   
He was getting fed up with these people. They wouldn’t let him see Clarke. Hell, they wouldn’t even let him in through the front door. He just wanted to make sure she was okay. He had to know. Bellamy couldn’t ignore the guilt churning his stomach.   
“As we’ve said before, you are not allowed inside. We will have Clarke contact you when she is awake,” said the woman at the door.   
“I’m an officer of the law. You will let me in,” said Bellamy, playing the cop card. He was ready to flash his badge and gun if it came to that.   
Then Marcus Kane appeared in the doorway. He seemed surprised by Bellamy’s determination, and Bellamy would be lying if he didn’t say it surprised him too.   
“Officer Blake,” Kane started. “Unless you have a warrant, you are not getting inside.” With a heavy sigh, Kane came forward and placed his hand on Bellamy’s shoulder. “I’ll see to it that she calls you when she’s awake and feeling better.”  
Bellamy felt his fight go out of him with a sigh, the weight of Kane’s hand calming him down. He nodded.  
“Oh, and Bellamy,” said Kane. “Wouldn’t you say it is beneficial for you not to speak of tonight’s events in the warehouse? Or ask too many questions about us?”   
Again, Bellamy felt the weight of Kane’s hand calming him, soothing him, allowing Bellamy to nod his head in agreement. Of course that would be best, Bellamy thought.   
Maybe he said the words aloud because Kane smiled at him and said, “Excellent.”   
The peace and reassurance Bellamy was feeling left him the moment the mansion door slammed in his face. With his mouth agape, Bellamy knew that Kane had done something to him. He wasn’t sure how, but Kane messed with Bellamy’s head.   
Shaking his head, Bellamy walked around the mansion’s shrubbery. He noticed a camera on the wall beside a window, the curtains pulled back slightly. Bellamy hurried and crouched down underneath the camera, hiding himself from its gaze. As the camera rotated, Bellamy sprang into action. He approached the window and carefully peaked in. There was a latch on the window but it was old and rusted. Bellamy prayed that sheer force would get to budge, even a little bit. As he yanked, the window frame protested but after one large tug, the latch broke and the window slid open. Bellamy acted quickly because the camera was coming back around. He climbed inside and landed on a carpeted floor silently. It was a small library and the fire was drawn in the fireplace instantly warming the cold air coming in from the window.   
Gingerly, Bellamy slid the window closed again. He crept to the door and waited until he heard silence, then stuck his head out. No one in the halls, he said to himself. He noticed the set of stairs down the hall from the room he was in. Though he had no idea where Clarke was, he had a feeling they’d keep her on a higher floor. Just before he could get into the hall, he heard a loud thud from behind him.  
“Ah,” he yelped, turning around.   
It was the frazzled looking girl from the warehouse. She looked like she was ready to piss herself. Or shout for help. Bellamy couldn’t let her do that. He ran toward her and covered her mouth with his hand before she had the chance to scream.   
“Wait,” he said, urgently. “Please don’t yell.” Bellamy pleaded, let his ‘good cop’ persona out and gave her the sad puppy eyes Octavia always hated.   
The girl relaxed a little in his arms and she nodded.  
“Good,” said Bellamy. “I’m going to remove my hand, okay? Is that okay?”  
The girl nodded again, frantic.   
Bellamy let up his hold and just as his shoulders started to relax, the girl yelled.   
“Jasper!” she called.  
Bellamy cursed and bolted for the door. He was already caught; he just needed to get to Clarke.   
“Stop,” said a deeper voice. Bellamy slowly turned back around but he couldn’t help the scoff that escaped him when he saw a scrawny little guy holding up a book as if to throw it at Bellamy’s head.   
“Look,” Bellamy started. The situation was getting out of hand fast, and all he wanted was to see Clarke. “I don’t want any trouble. I just need to see Clarke.”   
The scrawny boy, Jasper, Bellamy remembered, looked to be contemplating, assessing whether or not Bellamy was serious or not.   
“Please,” Bellamy continued. He had his hands raised beside his head to show he meant no harm.   
“You swear you’re not here to hurt us? You just want to see Clarke? Then you’ll leave?” Jasper asked.  
“Yes, I swear.”   
“Fine,” Jasper said, lowering the book back to the desk. “I’ll take you to her.” Jasper turned to the trembling girl in his arms and smoothed her hair back. “Maya, go wait in the study with Monty. I’ll be back soon.”  
Maya looked like she wanted to resist and go with him, but she nodded and then turned a surprising glare at Bellamy. “If you hurt him in any way,” she warned. “I’ll kill you.”   
The threat seemed out of place coming from her lips, but something about the frown on her lips and the sunken look in her eyes told Bellamy that she was 100 percent serious.   
What was with these people, Bellamy wondered. Just when Bellamy was going to follow Jasper out the door, something knocked him on his feet. Completely swept him on his butt.   
“What the hell,” Bellamy muttered.   
“That’s for making my girlfriend worry,” muttered Jasper.  
Bellamy was confounded. He hadn’t seen Jasper move, or anything in his way that would make Bellamy trip. Bellamy scratched at his head and then got back up, dusting off his jeans. Clarke would have the answers he needed, that he was sure of.   
“This way,” Jasper said gesturing to the stairs. “And stay close. If Kane knows I brought you up here they’d take away my weekend privileges.”   
Bellamy didn’t know what exactly those privileges were, and he didn’t ask. His head was already spinning too much at this point and he just needed to get to Clarke.   
He followed Jasper down a narrow hallway. On the walls Bellamy noted the pictures strung up. There were some of Kane and some other woman standing in front of the mansion, and then there was one with a large group of young kids all holding hands. There were too many in the photo to insinuate that they were all Kane’s children. There had to be about thirty kids in the picture. The one at the end of the hall made Bellamy stop all together. It was a small set of kids, two groups, one on each end of the lawn behind the mansion. On one side of the lawn, the kids were smiling and surrounded by a circle of fire. On the other end, the kids were crouched to the ground and, upon further inspection, Bellamy noticed the water slithering along the grass the just barely touched the tip of the fire.   
“Hey,” Jasper called. “In here.”  
Bellamy took an extra second to examine the picture and felt a shudder work through him. He had only that last second to notice two people standing off in the shadows of the photo. He recognized Kane as one of them, but the other figure was too well obscured from frame. All Bellamy could tell was that it was a woman. Her hair was much shorter than the woman from the other picture with Kane though.   
Moving away from the photo, Bellamy entered into the open room Jasper led him through.   
There, lying on the bed was Clarke.   
Bellamy raced to her side, one knee up on the bed as he hovered over her. His fingers dug into her dark hair and his thumbs caressed the sides of her face. “Clarke,” he whispered. He examined the rest of her body. Her color was coming back. He had been so afraid when he noticed how much paler she looked at the warehouse, and then when she passed out in his arms, her body went cold.   
“She’ll be okay,” Jasper said from the doorway. “This usually happens after we swear fealty.”   
“Fealty?” Bellamy questioned. It wasn’t the first time he heard that term being used around Clarke. “What does that mean?”   
“Wait,” Jasper crept to the other side of Clarke’s bed. “You don’t know?”   
“Know what? What is going on here?” Bellamy stood to his full height and ran a hand over his jaw, the scruff biting his hand along the way.  
Jasper fumbled. He fidgeted with the cuffs of his sleeves and took a step back. “I,” he hesitated. “I just assumed you’d know because, well, you and Clarke, ya know? I mean, you came in here and wanting to see her, and she said your name when we brought her up here. I mean, you can see why I assumed…right?” Jasper rambled.   
“There is nothing going on between Clarke and me. We’re just…” Bellamy stopped. Were they even friends? No. Acquaintances? Maybe. But there was something about the princess that made Bellamy warm inside, and his heart race.  
A groan from the bed brought both the boys’ attention the Clarke. She had started to stir and tentatively brought a hand to rub against her temple.  
“Clarke,” Bellamy said, bending down to caress her hair. “Hey.”  
“Mmm, Bellamy?” She cracked one eye open.  
Bellamy sighed with relief at seeing her blue eyes. “Yeah, princess. I’m here.”  
He only saw the smallest flash of a smile from her before he found himself being slammed against the wall, Clarke having jumped from the bed at insane speeds and using some intense strength to hold him there.   
“Clarke, what the hell?” Bellamy yelled.   
“You idiot,” she growled. “What were you doing at the warehouse? I had things under control and then you showed up and screwed it up!”   
“I went to make sure you were safe,” Bellamy yelled back.   
“And then you wound up being the one almost killed,” she cried. A tear fell out of the corner of her eye that Bellamy didn’t miss. He sagged against the wall, his frustration leaving him instantly.   
“Hey,” he said, voice low. “I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re okay.”   
Clarke’s hold on Bellamy loosened as she shook her head, the tears following suit. She couldn’t help herself though. When she saw Bellamy captured and almost killed, it reminded her too much of Dante and all the people in his coven she killed just by killing him. She didn’t want Bellamy’s blood on her hands too.  
Bellamy pushed past Clarke’s hold and took her in his arms. He pushed her head into his shoulder and held her as she cried.   
Clarke couldn’t stop shaking her head but feeling Bellamy’s warmth, that constant reminder that he was whole and alive, calmed the storm inside her and gave her a kind of strength and power she had never experienced before.  
Bellamy smiled against her hair, breathing in her lavender scent. It wasn’t until he saw Jasper move toward the door that he looked up from Clarke.   
“Looks like I assumed right,” Jasper uttered under his breath.   
Bellamy rolled his eyes and loosened his arms when he felt Clarke shift. Jasper had left, closing the door behind him, and Bellamy took Clarke back toward the bed.   
“Princess,” he said. “You know I need some answers, right?”   
Clarke tensed up immediately. It was true, that after everything with Atom and the warehouse, Bellamy had every right to demand answers. But once he knew the truth that was it. His life was over. Clarke told him as much.  
“I need to know, Clarke. There’s too many unanswered questions here for me to just turn a blind eye,” Bellamy said.  
“Fine,” Clarke resigned. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She reached to the nightstand and grabbed the water bottle there, taking a big gulp. “Where should I start?”  
“Aquaria,” he said immediately. “What is it?”  
Clarke smiled and pulled her open water bottle out in front of her. She closed her eyes and after a few seconds, raised her hand above the bottle. A bubble of water rose from the bottle and Clarke carried it closer to Bellamy’s face.   
He was rooted to his spot on the bed. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. A water bubble had just risen from the water bottle. And Clarke had done that. He forced himself not to move as it neared his face and then suddenly it popped in his face, making him flinch back.   
Clarke chuckled and Bellamy couldn’t help smiling at the sound.  
“Wow,” he breathed.   
“That’s just the tip of the ice berg. So, to answer your question, Aquaria is what I am.”  
Bellamy scooted closer to her on the bed. “What are you?”   
Clarke took a deep breath and steeled herself for his reaction. “I’m a witch, a witch who draws on Aquaria, the element of water, for strength. It’s my power, my guide.”  
Bellamy couldn’t look away from her eyes. They were so blue and sincere. She fully believed what she was saying. And after seeing her stunt with the water bubble, Bellamy believed her too. It didn’t make sense how it could happen but that explained her excessive need for water. But there was still so much more he wanted to know.   
“Are there others besides Aquaria? Evan?”  
“Right,” Clarke said, clearing her throat. “Evan is a Firestarter. There are others like Windwalkers and Earthdwellers. Some are downstairs right now. I’ll point them out to you,” she said with a cheeky grin.  
Bellamy chuckled. “That kid, Jasper?”  
“Windwalker. Like the name suggests, they have an affinity for the wind. They call upon it, weave themselves through it, can command it.”  
“So he tripped me?” Bellamy startled.   
“What?”  
The bastard, Bellamy thought. He shook his head for Clarke to disregard that.   
“And what is fealty? Why did Jasper say what happened to you tonight is because of fealty?” Bellamy was pretty proud that he managed to keep his voice from wavering.   
“Fealty is something you swear,” Clarke started.  
Bellamy noted the way her voice lowered, as if ashamed by the topic. There was also a note of irritation.  
“It makes more sense if I explain how covens work.”  
“Go on,” Bellamy urged.   
They settled into comfortable positions on the bed, both sitting crisscrossed on each end of the bed.   
“There aren’t very many witches left in the world. There was a feud that took out a lot of our people. But the ones that did survive found it easier to keep surviving in covens. So, each coven elected a coven leader. Forming a coven has its perks,” Clarke paused to take a sip of her water. “When you swear fealty, or allegiance to a coven leader, it lessens the possibility of addiction.”  
“Addiction?”  
“Using our powers, kind of like how I did tonight, it comes at a cost. Use too much and you become addicted to it. It continues to consume you until there’s nothing left of you. You die.”  
Bellamy hesitated. “Are you addicted?”  
“I was,” Clarke said. She ringed her hands together, agitated by the truth of her addiction.   
“Hey,” Bellamy said reaching over to take her hand in his. “It’s okay.”  
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “There’s just so much more to this that you don’t know and I can’t tell you everything right now.” She took in Bellamy’s clenched jaw and the way his eyes lowered from hers. He was disappointed. “But I want to,” added Clarke.   
Bellamy met her gaze again and despite knowing there were still secrets she’d be keeping, he accepted her honesty still. She’d tell him when she was ready.   
“So, swearing fealty to a coven leader takes away the addiction,” he prompted.  
“Right,” she answered. “But it also means that the coven leader you’ve sworn to has been granted access to your powers. Leaders like to preach this as a good thing, that it keeps us safe from each other and ourselves. We can’t use our powers unless our coven leader grants us permission. He owns our powers.”  
“If people don’t like coven leaders taking their powers, why swear?”  
“Some sacrifices are worth it if it gets rid of the addiction. Coven leaders also have protection that they can grant. They have numbers on their side, the notion that covens are family, and coven leaders have immense power.”  
Bellamy considered that for a moment. “How does one become a coven leader?”  
Clarke had to think of her answer in her head before she responded. If she didn’t tread lightly here, she could give too much away – too much that she wasn’t ready to give away just yet. “It used to be that elected coven leaders gained their powers from those that joined their coven and swore fealty. The coven leader’s power would start to feed off their members’ powers and it fueled their own. But, over time, people found faster ways to establish immense power.” Clarke paused. “If a witch kills a coven leader using their own affinity, it increases their power ten fold, and still adds the power of the coven leader they killed. But, like I said before, our powers come at a cost. Everything in our world does.”   
Clarke shifted on the bed, her leg starting to cramp and she made a face.  
Bellamy took the moment to lighten the mood and he chuckled, dragging her leg out on his lap and massaging her muscles. “Go on,” he said, smirking.   
Clarke, open mouthed, shook her head and then smiled. It was easier to talk to Bellamy about this than she thought it’d be. She expected he’d fight her on every last word and leave claiming she was crazy.   
When Clarke remembered their topic, she sobered up quickly. “When a witch kills a coven leader,” she said. “They don’t just take their powers. They kill everyone in his coven too, everyone who has sworn fealty at the time.”  
Bellamy stopped massaging her leg for a beat. Then he continued. “That’s heavy stuff,” he commented. He moved his hands higher on Clarke’s legs. He tried to keep his mind focused on everything Clarke was telling him, but he also couldn’t ignore the silkiness of Clarke’s skin. He wanted to touch more.  
“Have you seen that happen?” Bellamy wondered.   
Clarke pulled her leg out from his hold and tucked it back under her, cramped muscles be damned. But she didn’t think she had it in her to feel his touch when she knew she had seen that happen before.   
She had caused it.  
“Clarke?” he prompted. He wasn’t demanding her to answer; he was asking her if she’d answer. Bellamy was curious, sure, but he would still respect her if she didn’t. Although that would be answer enough for Bellamy.  
“Yes,” she whispered. She couldn’t meet his eyes.  
Bellamy recalled the video Atom captured and suddenly things were falling into place. A grim and dark place.  
“Fuck,” Bellamy cursed under his breath. He hung his head back and thought of the girl who had been dragged into his precinct a few days ago. She was loud mouthed, stubborn, impossible. She was also a killer.  
Bellamy stopped that thought from blooming into anything else. He ignored it. Clarke Griffin wasn’t a killer.   
His head snapped back toward her and he watched the way she curled into herself, her head buried underneath her arms. No, he thought. This girl is not a killer.  
Then he reached over and took her in his arms again. “You are not a killer,” he whispered fiercely into her hair.  
Clarke was about to protest when the door burst open and she and Bellamy pulled apart. Kane was at the foot of the bed, one hand on his hip and the other on Jasper’s shoulder.   
“Sorry,” Jasper muttered. He shrugged his shoulders and bit into his lip as he looked down at his feet.  
“What have you told him, Clarke?” Kane asked, though his eyes never left Bellamy’s.  
“Nothing,” she retorted with as much venom as Kane.  
“She told me everything,” Bellamy answered right after her. He wanted to wipe that frustration off Kane’s face. And he sure as hell didn’t appreciate the way he was talking to Clarke.   
Finally, Kane’s eyes moved to Clarke. “You know what I have to do.”  
Clarke moved so fast Bellamy didn’t even see her move. She was a blur. Like water, he mused.  
She stood in front of him, blocking his view of Kane. “You aren’t touching him.” Clarke felt her insides start to bubble, threatening to blow over.  
“You know I have no choice. Those are our rules.”  
“Like hell,” she muttered.   
Bellamy stood from the bed to try and calm Clarke down but when he saw her, her eyes stopped him short. They were shinning, glowing. Iridescent blue. Like in his dreams.  
They were bluer than any time he had ever seen them, bluer than when he swore he saw them glow or glimmer for a second. They were burning. A blue fire.  
“It’s you,” he whispered. He thought he said the words in his head but they tumbled out past his lips before he could stop them. “You’re the girl from my dreams.”   
“Christ almighty,” Jasper said, eyes darting between Clarke and Bellamy.   
Clarke jumped away from Bellamy like he had burned her and her mouth fell open.   
Kane couldn’t hide his surprise either, although it explained Bellamy’s earlier behavior. “Bellamy, son,” Kane started. “Why don’t we go have a talk in my office?”  
Bellamy found it hard to look away from Clarke. He couldn’t tell if she looked pleased with his outburst or disgusted. Maybe both.   
Kane reached forward to place his hand on Bellamy’s shoulder and Bellamy recalled the last time Kane touched him there.   
Clarke reacted. She gripped Kane’s arm and twisted him away from Bellamy. “I said,” she seethed. “Don’t touch him.”  
“My, my,” Kane breathed. “You’re making quite the habit of attacking coven leaders, aren’t you?”  
It was a major slap to Clarke’s face, and Bellamy knew that. He shoved Clarke’s hold off Kane and pushed her behind him. He sent a glare to Kane before he turned to Clarke and cradled her face in his hands. It was weird but Bellamy suddenly felt like he had every right to touch Clarke like this.  
“You okay?” he asked, low enough that only she could hear.   
She nodded, closing her eyes against the warmth that spread through her body at Bellamy’s touch.  
Satisfied, Bellamy faced Kane again. “I’ll go with you,” he said. “But Clarke comes with me. And you don’t mention her past like that again, do I make myself clear?”   
Kane raised an eyebrow at the two of them, a force Kane had not encountered in decades. “You really did tell him everything,” he said under his breath. “Fine. Let’s go.”   
Kane left first and then Bellamy let out a breath. He made to follow Kane but noticed Clarke’s hesitance. She turned to Jasper and whispered quickly, “go get my mom, and hurry.” Jasper ran out of the room after that.  
Clarke wasn’t sure what to do with herself. Not even a few hours ago, Bellamy was threatening to kill her if she put his sister in any danger, and now he was saying she was the literal girl of his dreams?  
She couldn’t ignore the feelings coursing inside her. Ever since she had seen Bellamy, a random day at the precinct when she went to visit her dad, she felt something. He was hot, no doubt about it. But there was a pull she felt whenever she was near him. Clarke had done a pretty good job at ignoring it but lately, with circumstances shoving them together time and time again, it was getting harder to do. And now this?  
It had been years since a Dreamscape was recorded in their books. The last recorded Dreamscape was nearly 80 years ago. Until now. Or so Kane thought. It could very well be a rouse, or a fake. That’s why Clarke had to go with Kane and Bellamy now – to find out the truth.   
Was Bellamy really the man Clarke’s soul cried out to?

Sitting in Kane’s office reminded Clarke of the first time she sat there not long ago, saying she would go through with swearing fealty to him. The fact that she was tied to him and his coven still churned her stomach but it was getting easier to ignore. She didn’t dare glance at the seat next to her. She could still feel Bellamy’s eyes burning holes into the side of her head. But Clarke thought it best not to say anything until her mom got there. Her mother would help her.  
“Our society is on a fragile line, Bellamy,” explained Kane. “The only way we ensure our safety is with our exclusivity. That being said,” Kane stood up from his chair and came around to lean against it, coming face to face with Bellamy.   
Clarke sat a little straighter, ready to charge at Kane if it came to that. Clarke had no idea where this fiercness to protect Bellamy had come from. Sure she had felt it at Atom’s apartment and again at the warehouse, but this was on a whole other level. It scared Clarke shitless, but she also couldn’t fight it because it made all the sense in the world to her body for her to protect him. Never had Clarke felt this sort of disconnection between her body and her head.  
“I need you to explain every detail of your dream before we can continue,” finished Kane.   
Just then, Abby came rushing through the door, ignoring Kane’s glance and grabbing Clarke up in her arms. She scooped her daughter out of the chair and breathed her in. “Are you okay?”  
“Yeah, mom,” said Clarke.   
Abby released her hold and shot a glare at Kane. “Care to explain what happened tonight? And while you’re at it, why there’s a cop in the mansion?”  
“Now, Abby, you and I are fully aware of the pain first use after fealty can cause,” Kane answered in reference to Clarke.   
“I’m well aware of that, Kane. What I meant is why was my daughter left unprotected tonight?”  
Kane bristled at her tone. “It would seem,” he said, glaring. “That Clarke left my jurisdiction. I was only able to enter after being notified of the altercation and of Clarke’s status.”  
“Clarke?” Abby said, her anger transferring to her daughter.   
“He killed someone, mom,” she said as an answer, referring to Evan and Atom. “Someone who was special to my friend,” Clarke said through gritted teeth.   
Both her and Bellamy cringed to think about how Octavia would take this news. She’d be devastated.   
“Oh, honey,” Abby responded. “But he could have killed you too.” Abby ran a hand along Clarke’s hair before kissing her cheek. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she said instead.   
“And the cop?” her mom asked.  
Clarke took her seat again steeling for what came next.  
“It would seem that you’re daughter has Dreamscaped,” answered Kane.   
Abby gasped and turned back to Clarke. “You did what?” she yelled.  
“I didn’t do anything,” Clarke argued.   
“This is serious, Clarke. No one has successfully Dreamscaped since the end of the War.”  
“Abby,” Kane said, hands raised as if to calm her down.  
“No,” said Abby, hands on her hips. “It’s because she swore fealty to you!”   
“Will someone please explain what the fuck is going on?” Bellamy suddenly yelled. He hated being kept so out of the loop as if he wasn’t even sitting there. He caught Clarke’s smirk out of the corner of his eye and smiled despite himself. He was glad at least Clarke found him amusing.  
Abby watched the small exchange between Clarke and Bellamy and couldn’t believe what she was witnessing. “We have to be certain,” she said facing Kane again.  
“That’s what we were just about to do before you came bursting in here like the Calvary,” uttered Kane.  
Abby bristled and waved a hand at him to continue.   
Kane shook his head and brought his attention back to Bellamy and Clarke. “I apologize for that, Bellamy. Let’s begin and if it is what we think it is, we will explain everything to you.”  
Bellamy nodded because, well, that was all he could do.   
Then, in a rare bout of affection, Clarke reached over and placed her hand over his. They locked eyes and suddenly Bellamy knew he could do this, because it was her. She was what he was searching for all this time. Maybe that explained why he handled all she told him so well, because he was meant to.   
He faced Kane again and cleared his throat. “The dream starts by the ocean,” Bellamy said. “I can feel the sand embedding itself into my toes, digging underneath my nails, and the salty air licking my skin. It feels amazing, like I’m free.” He pauses to glance at Clarke. “Then I see a woman come out of the ocean.”  
“Come out of the ocean?” said Kane. “How do you mean?”  
“I mean that she literally came out from the surface of the ocean, and she was beautiful,” he said, voice reverent.   
Clarke has to take a moment to look away from Bellamy’s intense gaze and try not to cringe by his reverent tone. She didn’t deserve that kind of affection or adoration. Not after what she did.  
“Hey,” Bellamy said, catching a lock of her hair and tucking it behind her ear. “You with me?”  
Clarke hesitates. His eyes were pleading for her to hear him out and after all that she dumped on him in the bedroom she owed him this. She wanted to give him this.   
She nodded.  
“Continue,” said Kane.   
“This beautiful woman emerged from the water completely dry and radiating. She had these intense blue eyes, bluer than the water she came from, bluer than anything I had ever seen. But they were glowing,” said Bellamy.  
“That could be anyone,” interrupted Abby. “All Aquaria have burning blue eyes.”  
“It was Clarke,” said Bellamy.  
“How could you possibly know that?”   
“When I saw your eyes upstairs,” he said, speaking solely to Clarke. “There was a fire behind them, a fierceness that is so completely you,” he said. “That’s when I knew, because you looked at me with that same intensity and fire in my dream. Like a woman not afraid to do what she needs to.”  
Clarke gulped past the lump in her throat and felt a shiver run down her spine. She felt Bellamy’s words scorching her body.  
“What else can you tell us about the woman?” Kane asked.  
Bellamy laughed at that and bent forward. He raked a hand through Clarke’s hair, from the hair to her temples down to the dried bits at the bottom. “She had blonde hair,” he said with a smile.   
Clarke felt the laughter slip past her lips. “Of course,” she said scratching at her roots, the bits of blonde already popping out.  
“Oh Fates,” Abby cursed. She rubbed at her temples.   
“Now, hold on a moment,” said Kane. “It is still not conclusive.”   
“I know it was Clarke,” argued Bellamy. He was getting agitated that they kept denying what he knew was truth. He just knew it.  
“Be that as it may,” said Kane. “We won’t know for sure until Clarke reaches her age of maturity.”  
“Age of maturity?” said Bellamy skeptically.   
Clarke laughed at the frown on his lips. “Not like that, Bellamy. I’m 19 don’t worry. For my kind, the age of maturity is the age where a witch fully comes into their own. We have to prove that we’ve mastered the artistry of spells, use of potions, and our affinity.”  
“Oh,” said Bellamy. “So, 20?”  
Clarke nodded. “It’s also when…” Clarke hesitated. She looked to Kane and Abby.  
“When what?”  
“Well, this hasn’t happened in nearly 80 years, but normally, witches Dreamscape with someone else. That means our soul calls out to someone else’s soul through dreams. We can only do that with, well, our soulmate for lack of a better word.”  
“Soulmate?” he asked incredulously.   
“You got a better word for it?” Clarke taunted, a cheeky grin on her lips.   
“Guess not,” he said, chuckling. “So, you’re my soulmate?”  
Clarke opened her mouth to answer but Abby beat her to it.  
“We don’t know for sure yet.”  
“Right,” said Kane, trying to keep the situation as diplomatic as possible. “On a witch’s maturity day, there is a piece of their soul that our kind can read that will tell us whether or not you are her soulmate.”  
“How long till that day?” Bellamy asked. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t itching to find out the truth.  
They all turned to Clarke. “Three months,” she answered.  
“Three months?!”  
“Take this as a grace period, Mr. Blake. Get to know exactly who it is you claim to be searching for, and should it not be Clarke,” Kane hesitated. “Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”  
Clarke fidgeted in her seat. She knew damn well what Kane would do if Bellamy turned out not to be her soulmate. Bellamy knew too much already.   
Kane was prepared to excuse them and save the rest of this situation for tomorrow when Clarke spoke up.  
“Bellamy would like to request amnesty.”  
Kane cursed and shook his head. “Damn it, Clarke. I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that.”  
“You can thank my mom and her thorough lessons on our kind’s history,” she muttered.   
“Wait, what am I requesting?” asked Bellamy, looking to Clarke for an answer.  
But she ignored Bellamy’s question. She wasn’t going to break contact with Kane now. Nope, he was going to break under her gaze. And she wouldn’t let up until she knew Bellamy would be kept safe.   
The silence dragged on and Bellamy didn’t ask again, not even Abby spoke. There was an unspoken match going on between Kane and Clarke that not even the bravest would think to interrupt. Until finally…  
“Fine,” said Kane. “I hereby grant Bellamy Blake amnesty from the Los Angeles Coven to be reviewed again in three months.”   
Clarke smirked. “Thank you.” She got up at took hold of Bellamy’s hand. “Let’s go. We have a lot to talk about.”  
Bellamy followed after her through the halls, past the library he had broken into, and caught sight of Jasper with Maya and some other kid before being outside of the mansion.   
“Let’s go to your place. We should check on Octavia too,” said Clarke. She hadn’t looked at Bellamy since they left Kane’s office but Bellamy kept trying to catch her gaze.   
When they finally reached his car, Bellamy had had enough. “Clarke, would you look at me, please?”   
Clarke swallowed and shook her head. “We can talk when we get to your place.”  
Bellamy turned her around, gripping her shoulders, and pushed her until her back fell against the side of his car. He waited some more but she didn’t budge. It wasn’t until Bellamy tucked a finger under her chin and forced her gaze that he felt like the one trapped.   
Her eyes were glowing again.   
Clarke couldn’t help it. There was so much emotion flooding her senses. She felt warmth being this close to Bellamy, and just touching his hand had set her blood rushing. The protectiveness she felt towards him, even remembering the way he described the dream he had of her, it did things to her insides. It set her heart beating way faster than normal. But Clarke was also confused. She knew virtually nothing about Bellamy. But she wanted to. More than anything.  
And then she couldn’t help herself at all. She touched her lips to his softly, barely even there.  
Bellamy’s arms came up on either side of her head against the car and he let himself fall into the kiss.  
It was simple, chaste even. Just her lips to his. But it broke something inside him. He wanted more.   
Bellamy stepped closer to her, aligning his body up with hers, feeling the way her muscles jumped against him, and took her face in his hands. He angled her head to the side and coaxed her lips open with his. When his tongue rolled with hers, she whimpered against him.   
Damn, Bellamy Blake knew how to kiss a girl. Clarke gripped the side of his shirt and felt his shiver throughout her own body too.  
They pulled apart at the same time and Clarke smiled as she felt his breath on her forehead.   
“Yeah, talking is not the only thing I plan on us doing at my place,” said Bellamy.   
They laughed against each other and Clarke finally allowed herself to gaze at him fully. Looking into his brown eyes, noting the freckles that speckled his face, and his disheveled hair, and seeing the lightness of his personality, the carefree person he wanted to be reflected back at her, Clarke wouldn’t be terribly disappointed if he turned out to be her soulmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews make the day a little better. Keep 'em coming, please & thank you!


	6. Chapter 6

There was a zing of nervous energy that charged the air in the car. Clarke tried to ignore it, at least until they could talk more about what Bellamy’s dream meant, and what that meant for them. Bellamy, on the other hand, reveled in it. He wanted to reach a hand over to Clarke’s across the console but her rigid posture made him hesitate. He understood her confusion. Hell, even he was confused. But he couldn’t ignore the happiness, the surety, peace even, that came with knowing Clarke was the girl from his dreams.   
When Bellamy pulled up to his apartment, Clarke blew out a breath. But the second she let it out, she felt like she couldn’t drag in another. Because there, blanketed in the shadows near Bellamy’s apartment, was a figure – a figure Clarke recognized in a heartbeat. And hers was beating so wildly she swore Bellamy would be able to hear it. But she had to play it cool. There were still some things he didn’t need to know about just yet.   
“I’m assuming we can’t tell Octavia any of this?” Bellamy suddenly asked, dragging Clarke’s gaze from the shadows.   
Clarke remembered Kane’s mission for her. It wasn’t done yet, and it wouldn’t be until Kane gave her other orders. “Right,” she answered.   
“It’s for the best,” Bellamy agreed. “I want to keep her out of this.”  
Clarke gulped. She had had similar thoughts merely a couple hours before. Octavia’s light shone too bright to be snuffed out by Clarke’s world, and now presumably Bellamy’s world too. But that was still yet to be determined.  
Clarke watched Bellamy exit the car and with hesitant steps, followed him up the apartment entrance. She placed a hand on his arm, trying her best to ignore the buzz that wanted to overpower her senses. “I’ll be right there,” she said. “I just have to check in with my dad real quick.”  
“Of course.”  
Clarke made to walk down toward the garden at the side of the building, close to the shadows she was vying to check out. But Bellamy stopped her with a hand, like she did him.   
“Hey,” he whispered. He cupped her cheeks in his hands, let his thumbs caress the sides of her face, and he smiled to himself. “Don’t disappear on me, okay?”  
Clarke felt her chest tighten and expand. She placed her hands over his and reached onto her toes to kiss his cheek. “I won’t,” she vowed. “I promise.” Then she left toward the garden.   
Bellamy wasn’t fooled for a second. He knew she was hiding something. She was nervous and fidgety. Clarke had a tendency to avoid his glance when she was hiding something, and the way her pulse raced when she laid her hands on his, Bellamy was sure it wasn’t just because he was touching her, even though he wanted it to be. He wanted to pester her for answers, but it felt like he had been doing nothing but that all night.   
This time, he wanted her to willingly give up the answers to the secrets she had. And Bellamy would wait.  
Clarke waited until she heard the apartment door open and close behind Bellamy before she walked toward the dark corner of the building. Sure enough, he was still there. Clarke swore under her breath and shook her head as she made her way toward him.   
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice strangely calm. She had to work herself to slow her pulse and calm her nerves. She wasn’t afraid of him, but she wasn’t stupid either. Clarke knew what this guy was capable of.   
“I wanted to see her,” he whispered, his voice almost fading away into the darkness before they could reach Clarke’s ears.   
“Lincoln,” Clarke started. “Why her?”  
“Her soul,” he muttered. He couldn’t finish. Lincoln stuffed his hands into his pockets where they balled into fists. His soul called out to the dark-haired beauty up the stairs, but it wasn’t in the same hungry sort of way he did when he lost control. No, this was a different kind of hunger.   
“Kane’s got me tailing her. That means you can’t be here, Linc.”   
“I know. Sometimes I’ll walk aimlessly and find myself here. Always here.”  
Clarke figured Lincoln was going off on one of his bad kicks. He usually got this way when he hadn’t worked a mission in a while. His powers craved to be used, craved the fresh air, wanted to breath down the necks of the living. The only way she knew how to knock him out of it was to give him what his soul most desired – the mission. Usually, Evan and her would drive out of California and into Arizona for some good game. They’d prey on the weakest of humans, sometimes even finding resistance from the witches residing there. But they couldn’t do too much to stop the trio. Not just because Evan didn’t normally let them live long, but because Arizona wasn’t in the same jurisdiction as the California covens. It was a dirty game the three of them liked to play when they got bored. It gave them all the much-needed drag of adrenaline that allowed them to stay sane.   
But the last mission they ever went on together was when Clarke and Evan confronted Dante, and then killed him. That was nearly two weeks ago. With Clarke bound to Kane and Evan being held in Kane’s basement, there wouldn’t be an opportunity for Lincoln to blow off his steam.   
Clarke stepped closer to Lincoln, half submerged in the shadows he hid in. “Maybe you should talk with Kane,” she suggested. Clarke felt him tense under her touch as she said his name. “He can help you.”  
“No,” Lincoln bit out. “I’ve lost myself to one leader, I won’t do it again.” Lincoln stepped away from Clarke’s touch and rubbed a calloused hand over his brow.   
“Fine. Can you at least wait a few more days? I’ll take you out to feed,” Clarke said.   
Lincoln felt his face scrunch into a grimace. He hated that he needed a babysitter on these excursions. But truth be told, he could never deny he needed it. If he took to feeding on his own, there would be a lot more dead bodies hitting the floor. At least with Clarke there he wouldn’t have to worry about killing anyone. For all the shit he had to do for Evan, Lincoln always hating when he had to kill. It wasn’t like Lincoln could just put all the blame on Evan because in the end he didn’t stop himself.   
Clarke sensed his guilt. It always came up when she brought up feeding. She had been telling him that there were other ways to feed his powers than taking bits of human souls, but that took a lot more patience than Lincoln had. In actuality, it would take Lincoln swearing fealty to a coven leader for him to fully gain control of his power. Soul Seekers always had the short end of every stick.   
Clarke let out a sigh and tucked a finger under his chin to make him see her. “We’ll get through this, Linc. Together. We’re family and I won’t turn my back on you – even if Commander Kane has my powers on lock down.”   
Lincoln smiled despite himself. He and Clarke had been friends for a relatively short time, but it was like she understood his struggles. Ever since her dealings with Dante, and all the lives lost from his coven, it changed something inside her. That part Lincoln knew all too well.   
He nodded. “I know. Family means more than blood, you’re always telling me that.”  
“Yeah, but who said it first?” Clarke said, chuckling.   
“Me, of course.”  
They reached for each other at the same time, embracing each other and letting both the darkness and the tiny swivels of light envelope them.   
“You need to stay away from her, Linc,” Clarke murmured into his chest. She felt him stiffen again.  
“I,” he hesitated. “I’ll try. By the Fates, I will try, Clarke. For you.”  
She smiled and tried not to let her own pity and sadness bleed through. “I know you will. Now go,” she commanded.   
He nodded. “You should be weary of him too, Clarke. Something is different with his soul.”   
The look Lincoln gave her made Clarke want to question him further. It was like he was trying to say something more profound with just those simple words. But then he was gone, taken by the shadows, and she was alone.   
Shaking off the shivers that ran down her spine, Clarke prepared herself to deal with Bellamy and all the mess her heart was creating in her chest. 

Bellamy had Octavia wrapped up in a thick wool blanket on the couch, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, when he heard Clarke coming through the front door. He had left it unlocked for her and just the sight of her made him smile. But when he heard Octavia sniffle against him, he was reminded of the heartbreak his little sister was going through.   
He had decided to tell Octavia about Atom without Clarke being there. It felt like something he had to do, especially since it was his fault that he died.   
Clarke’s lips parted as she watched Bellamy with his sister. Octavia was hurting and there wasn’t anything Clarke could do about it. It was her fault Atom had died. She couldn’t do anything to save him in the end.   
She averted her eyes from the scene and went into the kitchen instead. She’d give them a few minutes.   
Octavia had other plans though. She spotted Clarke and ran straight to her, throwing her arms around the Clarke’s stiff shoulders and sobbing into her hair.  
“There, there,” Clarke tried to sooth, though she was sure that she wasn’t making anything better. Then she remembered Atom’s gaze on hers as he died; forgiveness, softness, a sense of relief when it was all done. “His fight is over,” she whispered. It was something reserved for whenever witches died in battle and although Atom was no witch, he had fought hard against Evan and stayed strong even in his final moments.   
Clarke felt Octavia nod into her shoulder before pulling back. She wiped away a few stray tears. “I’m so sorry, Octavia.”  
She nodded again, feeling like she couldn’t get the words out. Octavia couldn’t believe that someone she had seen just a few days before was gone forever. How could life work in such a cruel way?   
“I think I just want to be alone now,” she said, words coming out broken and choked out.   
“Of course,” Clarke said. “We’ll be here if you need anything.”   
Clarke watched Octavia leave, and saw her grab the blue gemstone on the kitchen counter. Clarke opened her mouth to ask where she got such a stone, but at the slump in Octavia’s shoulders and the sniffles that followed her, Clarke figured she could ask another time.   
Arms wrapped around Clarke’s waist and she stiffened for only a fraction of a second before relaxing against Bellamy, even before her brain could register the action. Her body was already so in tuned to Bellamy. Clarke hadn’t realized it had gotten to that already.  
“You and I have a lot to talk about,” Bellamy said against her ear, voice gruff.   
Talking suddenly felt like the last thing Clarke wanted to do. She had talked at the mansion, in Kane’s office, outside with Lincoln. She just wanted to not think for a little bit. She would have to deal with Evan at some point. Then she’d have to help Lincoln with his feeding problems. Eventually she and Bellamy would have to talk about what was going on between them. Not to mention, Clarke still had her orders from Kane to keep an eye on Octavia.   
No, Clarke didn’t want to talk.  
She twisted in Bellamy’s arms and yanked him down, effectively slamming their lips together.   
Bellamy froze for a second. He hadn’t expected Clarke to respond like this. Sure, he had touched her and breathed against her hair. But that was more because he just felt like he had to touch her. His body was already on fire for her, but with her kiss, he was a wildfire.   
He gripped her hips in his hands and in one smooth move, pulled her to sit on the kitchen counter top.   
Clarke opened up her legs for him, allowing him to settle against her and she clutched his head closer to her, letting her fingers run through his hair. When she gave it a tug, he groaned against her lips.   
Not to be out done, Bellamy grasped one of her thighs and swung it over his hip, angling her just where he wanted her. As he coaxed their tongues together, he grinded his hips forward, letting the movements of his tongue match the ones of his hips. He was rewarded with Clarke’s sultry whimper on his tongue.  
They were straddling a dangerous line. But Clarke just wanted to forget it all for a few more minutes; let herself drown so completely in Bellamy, that maybe for just that small splice of a moment, they were the only two people in the world.   
But Bellamy knew better. And he was starting to know Clarke better too. He pulled back, but took his time, teeth dragging her lower lip out before he kissed her again. He didn’t let Clarke get far though. Her leg was still wrapped around his hip, and his hand still buried in her hair, holding her face at the perfect kissing angle.   
He rested his forehead against hers. “Clarke,” he breathed. “We have to slow down.”  
She shook her head, feeling the weight of her situation, of everything, threatening to return. Not yet, she thought. Her breath hitched in her throat. “No, I don’t want to slow down. I can’t slow down.”  
Bellamy got the impression she wasn’t talking about him. He imagined there was a lot more going on with her than just him and the two of them together. Bellamy saw the way her lower lip trembled, the glossy sheen to her eyes, the crease in her brow, and hated that he couldn’t do much to make her feel better.   
That’s when Bellamy decided that if he had to put ‘them’ on the back burner for a while, just so Clarke could sort through everything else she had going on, then he’d do it. He wouldn’t be a cause to her problems. He wanted to be her solution. Her fix.   
So he pulled Clarke closer to his body, felt her arms wrap around his shoulders, and carried them to his bedroom where they could both forget, just for a few hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all. Sorry, I know it's a short update. Since it's so short I'll be updating again next week (maybe after the new episode airs!) Let me know what you think of the story so far! Thanks for reading! P.S. The new episode was so so good. Glad to have the Delinquent Squad back and ready to kick some ass!!!


	7. Chapter 7

Clarke woke up with the sun right in her eyes and a heavy weight draped over her waist. She squinted her eyes and spotted her jeans on Bellamy’s desk chair and then remembered where she was. The weight made more sense now. She turned her head against the light and smiled when she saw Bellamy’s freckled face half buried in her hair and the other breathing against her face.   
His bed wasn’t small, and so Clarke chuckled at his impossible need to get close. She knew that need too. They had both wanted to get so desperately closer last night as they tumbled on the bed, constantly switching positions. But Bellamy hadn’t taken it any further than kissing and Clarke was grateful for that now in the light of day. She didn’t want it to happen like that.   
With a few tugs, Clarke managed to get free from Bellamy’s hold and he sighed before rolling over. Clarke figured she’d let him get a few more minutes of sleep while she rummaged through his bathroom and brushed her teeth, put her jeans back on, and rearranged her shirt. Her stomach growled and she went out in search of food.   
Octavia was already in the kitchen sitting at the counter with a cup of coffee in her hands.   
“Hey, O,” Clarke said. “How you feeling today?”  
Octavia shrugged. “I’ve been better.”  
Clarke took out a glass from the cupboard and poured herself some orange juice before sitting down beside Octavia. “How about you and I spend the day today? I’ve been meaning to show you this great coffee shop in the next town over.”  
“Thanks, but I don’t really feel like going out today.”  
Clarke silently cursed herself. “Of course, I’m sorry.”  
“Maybe you can stay here? And we can watch movies?” There was a shyness to Octavia’s voice and Clarke had to keep reminding herself that Octavia was still young in more ways than one, but she was growing up fast.  
“Yeah, that sounds good.”   
They each took a sip of their drinks.   
“So,” Octavia started. “You and my brother, huh?”   
Clarke choked on her orange juice.   
Octavia laughed. “I think it’s great, in case you were wondering. I mean, my brother is usually really uptight and I think you’d be good for him.”  
“I’m glad you think so, O,” said Bellamy from the doorframe of the kitchen. He was leaning against the frame, arms crossed over his bare chest. He walked over to Octavia and dropped a kiss on her head before coming behind Clarke, wrapping his arms around her waist, and laying a sloppy kiss on her lips.   
“Ew, Bell,” Octavia complained. “Don’t do that in front of me!”  
Clarke broke the kiss with a laugh and turned her head.   
Bellamy laughed against Clarke’s neck and left a kiss there before pulling away and pouring himself a cup of coffee.   
Octavia had actually cracked a small smile during this whole thing and Clarke made a mental note to make her do that more often.   
Just then, Clarke’s phone buzzed in her back pocket. “Sorry, I should take it. It’s probably my parents.”  
Clarke excused herself and stepped outside the apartment, taking the phone call on the stairs. “Hello?”  
“Honey, we need you to come in,” said her mom on the other end.  
“For what? I kind of need to be here with Octavia today.”  
“It’s Evan.”  
Clarke’s spine went rigid. “What about him?”  
There was a pause on the phone. “He’s demanding to speak with you.”  
“Well, tell him I don’t want to talk to him.”  
“He’s hurting the guards, Clarke.”   
“Then immobilize him,” Clarke snapped.  
“You know that isn’t how we do things. Look,” her mom sighed. “I wouldn’t be asking this of you if there was another option. Please.”  
Clarke muttered a curse under her breath and said, “fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” And before the line went dead, she added, “and have an egg sandwich ready for me.”  
Going back into the apartment, Clarke wished even more that she had told her mom no instead. Octavia was helping her brother add in the right ingredients to the mixing bowl. It looked like he was making blueberry pancakes.   
“I got this, O. You just dump all the crap in and mix. Easy,” Bellamy said, trying to take the batter out of her hands.  
“You need to have the right measurements too!”  
Clarke laughed as she took her seat at the counter again and downed the rest of her juice. She tried to put on an easy smile when she said, “So, I actually need to take care of some stuff for my mom for a while, but I’ll be back after.” She looked to Octavia. “Our movie day is still on!”  
Bellamy let Octavia take the bowl from his grip.   
“Okay, sure. I’ll have some takeout ready when you get back,” she said, turning to fire the stove.   
Bellamy’s gaze went hard and his jaw ticked behind the skin there. He stood next to Clarke, one hand gripping the counter and the other stationed on her thigh. “What’s going on?”   
“Nothing, just some things my mom needs me to do for her.” Clarke had a feeling she should be telling Bellamy the truth but she was kind of hoping he wouldn’t involve himself in this, especially this. Evan was her problem, an old problem Clarke always had trouble shaking, and she didn’t want Bellamy anywhere near it.   
Then he cupped her cheeks in his palms, kissing her forehead. “One day you’re going to trust me, Clarke.”  
Clarke carefully touched the sides of his hips, her pulse fluttering. “I do trust you.”  
“Not with everything. I want everything, Clarke.”  
The thought scared Clarke more than anything. There was so much of her that was broken or bent. She wasn’t sure any of it was worth giving. “You don’t even know me.”  
“Is that what this is about?” Bellamy questioned, moving back. “You think I’m not your mate? You think I’m lying?”  
Clarke was already shaking her head. “No, I think the idea of soulmates is ridiculous,” she admitted, voice hard. She hadn’t meant for her voice to sound so harsh, but the assumption that Clarke was lying to him made her blood boil. Because she was. And she probably would always lie to him. To keep him safe, she would rationalize.   
But the truth of the matter was she didn’t know Bellamy. She knew things about him. She knew he had more freckles along his back, and a dimple on his lower back that made him shudder when Clarke touched it. She knew he was fiercely protective of his sister. She knew he loved helping people.   
Then the news of his dream came up and the word ‘soulmate’ was tossed around so carelessly that Clarke hadn’t gotten a moment to think it through.   
“I think you should leave,” Bellamy said.   
Clarke swallowed past the lump in her throat. He was kicking her out. And she couldn’t even be mad at him.   
Clarke nodded and didn’t spare a second glance at him.

 

Clarke rolled her eyes and let out a groan for what seemed like the fifteenth time. She had been involved in a starring match with Evan and he hadn’t said a word.   
“For a guy who has been begging to talk to me, you really know how to get the conversation rolling,” she sighed.  
Evan grunted. It was the most Clarke had heard since she got into the room.   
The room was padded, no windows, only one door, and it was charmed. No magic could enter and none could exit. With Clarke’s magic gone in there, she was no match for Evan and the hefty size he had over her. But he was chained to his chair, bolted to the ground. He wasn’t moving.   
“If there is nothing else to be said,” Clarke said, getting up.  
“Wait,” Evan finally said.   
Clarke waited, refusing to sit back down if the conversation wasn’t going to go anywhere.   
“Word is you’ve found your mate.”  
Then Clarke had no choice but to sit. Hearing the word ‘mate’ from Evan’s lips felt wrong. Her knees shook and sitting was the only option.   
“What do you care?” she asked.  
Evan leaned forward, the chains rattling.   
The sound made Clarke’s throat constrict.   
“If you think for one second that he is safe from Cage, you are so very wrong.”  
“He has protection here,” Clarke argued, but the words came out as a whisper.  
Evan looked Clarke dead in the eyes, the brown and gold flecks in his gaze swirling. “It isn’t enough. It will never be enough. Even for you.”  
Clarke gulped despite her efforts to remain neutral. She was starting to doubt if she really knew how strong Cage was not. That spurred a thought she couldn’t ignore.  
“You work for him, don’t you?” Clarke’s eyes narrowed, and watered.   
“Since the day you showed up on my door step, little princess.” Evan smiled.  
Clarke grit her teeth, but the tears came down anyway. All those missions they went on where Evan fought through her resolve by telling her it would keep her safe, they weren’t their missions at all. They were Cage’s missions. How many more people had Clarke killed for Cage? The thought made her want to hurl.   
She jolted from her chair and ran for the padded door, banging against it. “Let me out!”   
The door hadn’t closed fast enough for her to miss Evan’s laughter following her out.


	8. Chapter 8

Clarke let her feet lead her. She had thought about going back to Bellamy’s, and she had already told Octavia she would come back for movie night, but with the way she left things with Bellamy, it just wouldn’t be right. And she was still too confused over what Evan had just revealed to her.   
He had been working for Cage this whole time. Which meant that despite Dante being Cage’s father, Cage had still planned for his father to die. And he had planned for Clarke to do it. Now all that was left was for Cage to kill her, take her powers (and his father’s coven’s) and then he would be unstoppable. He would take over the Nevada covens first. Then move over to California. He would take over Kane’s coven at the flick of a wrist, which meant her mom’s death. Most likely Bellamy’s too.   
Clarke jumped at the feel of her phone buzzing in her back pocket. It was Lincoln.   
“Shit,” Clarke muttered under her breath. “Linc?”   
“Clarke,” his said, his voice coming out clipped and achy. “I can’t… I can’t.” Lincoln struggled to get the words out and Clarke stopped on the side of the road.   
“Lincoln, talk to me!”   
“I can’t breathe, Clarke. I can’t breathe. I need to feed. I can’t make it all the way out to the desert.”  
Clarke cursed and moved the phone away from her ear for a second, her fist meeting the bite of her teeth. She took a breath and brought the phone back.  
“Okay, Linc. Listen to me. I’m on my way. We’ll stay near the pier but we have to be quick,” she said, rushed.   
Clarke heard Lincoln’s sigh of relief and then a quick, “okay,” before she hung up. She reeled, practically running to get to Lincoln’s dingy apartment in the worse part of town.   
She had hoped that she wouldn’t have to worry about using her powers with Lincoln. Granted, Kane hadn’t put the restrictions back on her powers, but she wasn’t willing to risk it. Risking it meant risking her mom’s life too. Instead, Clarke would have to hope that her connection with Lincoln was enough to keep him in check.   
It took Clarke twenty minutes to get to Lincoln. She cursed herself for not taking her car from Kane’s place but she needed the walk to clear her head. The minute she stepped up to his apartment door, he came barreling through.   
“Let’s go,” he ordered, gruffly.   
Clarke didn’t bother commenting on his mood; she knew better than to mess with Lincoln while he was like this. It was like poking an already volatile bear.   
She drove Lincoln’s truck out to the pier, trying to speed but not to the point where she could crash. Lincoln was fidgety in the passenger seat the whole way. Clarke thought about reaching over to grab his hand and help calm him, but his hands were balled into fists against his thighs, and he kept his gaze locked out the main window.   
He wasn’t looking for calm. He was looking to feed.  
Clarke pulled into a dark alcove near the pier. The sound of waves crashing against the shore is what engulfed them the moment they opened their doors. Clarke wished she could take a moment to smell the salty sea air, let the water wash over her and empower her, but this was about Lincoln.   
“There should be tags on the side of the boardwalk,” Clarke said. It was easier to call them ‘tags’ than humans. It made it easier to ignore the fact that Lincoln was feeding off of human souls.   
Lincoln grunted in response and pushed out of the car. Clarke trailed behind him, wondering just how far from the edge he was.   
The other side of the boardwalk was much darker than any other part. The way the boardwalk was built made it so that the light didn’t shine on that part of the pier, and the undersides were reserved mostly for LA’s homeless.   
Lincoln wasted no time at all. He struck an arm out and grabbed onto the nearest tag, slouched against one of the wooden boardwalk beams. The tag let out a yelp that Lincoln quickly silenced with a hand over his mouth. As he slammed the tag back against the beam, Lincoln opened his mouth over the tag. In one inhale, Clarke saw the white light, the wispy cloud of the tag’s soul, leaving from their lips and slithering into Lincoln’s. The entire process always fascinated and haunted Clarke. But she couldn’t look away.  
The max tagging time for Lincoln was a minute per tag. Anymore time, and he would kill the tag. It left behind a messy trail of bodies that Clarke didn’t have the time to bury or explain.   
“Alright, Linc,” Clarke said, coming forward to touch his shoulder. “That’s it for that one.”  
The moment Clarke touched him, he snapped around, teeth barred as he growled at her. “Hey!” she scolded.   
Lincoln dropped the tag on the ground and immediately went on in search of another. Clarke bent down and tilted the tag’s head back, letting it loll against the beam. She quickly checked for a pulse. She held her breath the entire time while doing it. But once she felt a jump under the pads of her fingers, she finally inhaled.   
The tag was barely breathing, but it was better than being dead.   
Clarke shot to her feet when she heard a scream. It was too loud for the area that they were in. Someone was bound to hear and call the cops.   
She ran for Lincoln who was still attached to the next tag. It had been way longer than a minute and Clarke was seriously worried and annoyed that they would have a dead body on their hands.   
“Linc! Stop!” Clarke yanked Lincoln back and the wispy white light cut off like a switch, or a bulb frying out.   
He growled again, this time the whiteness in his eyes, the way they would get in the middle of a feed, were not going away.   
Clarke’s breath stopped short. She dug her fingernails into Lincoln’s shoulders but he flipped his hands around and grabbed hold of Clarke. She was the one trapped now. And Lincoln looked like he was sizing up his prey.   
Clarke gulped. “Lincoln, please,” she whispered. “Stop. Snap out of it. You got your feed, now think!”   
Clarke had never been on the feeding end of one of Lincoln’s attacks. But from the way she watched it all happen, and from the stories she had heard throughout her years, she knew it wasn’t a pleasant experience. It was like taking a hot branding iron to the skin, but feeling it in every stretch of skin, in every pore, until it reached your heart. It was literally taking bits of the human soul.   
Lincoln inched his mouth closer to Clarke’s and suddenly everything fell into tunnel vision. All she saw was Lincoln’s face, his white eyes, the color finally coming back to his face. They had moved closer to the water somehow. Maybe it was the natural pull she felt whenever she was near water, or maybe Lincoln was hoping to drag her out further away from people, for fear of someone hearing his tags’ screams. Either way, the buzz from the water invigorated Clarke.   
She could have decided to use her powers then. Kane hadn’t put the restraint back on her. But she wasn’t willing to risk it. Magic was too tricky to mess with, especially when it involved other lives.   
Standing her ground, Clarke dug into Lincoln’s forearms. “Listen to me, Linc. Listen to my voice. You fed. You can think now. Don’t let the power control you.”   
He grunted and tried to shove Clarke back, to get her to shut up most likely. But Clarke kept going.   
“Remember what we always tell each other? We control the power, not the other way around. Fight it, Lincoln.”   
His mouth came in closer and in doing so, Clarke felt like she was getting closer and closer to a flame that could seriously kill her.   
“Fight it! Lincoln!” Clarke began to flail. It was all she could do. She shoved against him, called his name, pleaded.   
It wasn’t until she yanked her hair back, exposing her lips and everything else, that Clarke let out a cry. It was no use. All she could do was hope Lincoln didn’t kill her.   
Clarke was panting and squeezing her eyes shut, trying to ignore the fact that this was someone she trusted. It hurt her more to know that this was Lincoln doing it. Before she even realized it, tears were spilling down her face.   
Then the hand wrapped in her hair loosened. She heard Lincoln’s sharp intake of breath and then she flopped to the sand.   
A broken sob escaped her almost at the same time it escaped Lincoln. He bent forward, knees touching hers, and he cupped her cheek in his hands.   
“Are you okay?” he asked. His eyes were back to their normal shade of brown, rimmed red from his sobbing.   
Clarke nodded.   
“I’m so sorry, Clarke. I’m so sorry.” Lincoln couldn’t seem to catch his breath.   
Clarke cradled his face and brought their foreheads together. “Just breathe, Linc. Breathe.”   
Together, they worked to get their heart rates down. Once they were calm enough, Clarke was able to say more.  
“It’s okay. We’re okay,” she soothed.   
And Clarke believed it. Despite having her soul almost sucked away, she knew they were okay. Lincoln was able to come back from his craze and realize what was happening. That was huge. Clarke also knew, better than anyone, the dangers that came with dealing with others with magic. Having the affinities for the elements was a dangerous thing to play with. Even when they were used just to survive, like for Lincoln, it was still a gamble. Death was common in their world. Struggles and strife was common in their world. Being okay was not. It made Clarke realize that holding on to the things that made you okay is important. You couldn’t just let that go.   
Clarke was starting to realize why she was so drawn to Bellamy since day one.   
He made her feel okay.   
She could only imagine what more he could make her feel. 

Clarke officially felt like a jerk.   
She had bailed on Octavia’s movie day and had managed to avoid Bellamy for three days now.   
After the mess with Lincoln, Clarke couldn’t leave him in that state. She told her parents what happened and, even though they insisted she bring him to Kane, she made them accept that she wasn’t going to be leaving his side for the night. But Lincoln was fragile after his tag mission. So that one night turned into two and by the third night, he was finally able to joke around with her like he used to.   
“Okay, but really. I’m sick of seeing your face, Clarke. Go home,” Lincoln teased.   
“Really? You’re kicking me out? I’m hurt,” she pouted.   
Lincoln sighed and joined Clarke on the couch. She was watching some home improvement shows that she and Lincoln always loved to watch together. He clicked it off with the remote before engulfing Clarke in his arms.   
“Clarke,” he started. “I love you, but I know you have stuff going on. You haven’t mentioned your mate so I’m assuming you haven’t talked to him. And knowing Kane, he must have you on some mission. You have a life and things to stress over without me adding to it.”  
At that, Clarke pushed out of his arms and punched him in the chest. Hard.   
“Ow,” he complained.  
“Don’t ever say you are just adding to my stress. I’m serious. You are not adding. You’re like my brother, Linc. You’re family.” Clarke smoothed the worry lines on his brow. “I’m always here for you.”  
He sighed again before cracking a smile. “Okay. Thank you for that. But I’m okay now,” he said, arms outstretched. “I’ve got left over Chinese in the fridge and a whole marathon of,” he paused to turn the TV back on. “A whole marathon of Fixer Upper to watch.”   
They laughed.  
“I’m fine, Clarke. Really.”  
Clarke finally relented. With a stern ‘call me if you need anything’ and peck to his cheek, she left Lincoln’s apartment. She was on the road for less than two minutes when her phone started to buzz. She had been expecting a call from Bellamy at some point, but it wasn’t him calling her just then.   
It was Kane.  
“What?” she answered.   
“Where in the hell have you been?” Whoa. He was pissed.  
“I told Abby I was helping out a friend.” Clarke thought it best not to mention Lincoln’s name, even if Kane was fully aware of his situation. By not sating his name, Clarke made it clear they didn’t want Kane involved.   
“Your duties are not to that crazed Soul Seeker. They are to me.”  
Clarke wanted so desperately to snap at Kane for that. How dare he talk shit about someone she considered family? But Kane was the main guy in charge. Pissing him off was not doing her any favors. Clarke’s silence seemed to be enough for Kane to press on.  
“We need you to move on to phase two of your mission.”  
“Phase two?”  
“Push Octavia Blake to the brink, Clarke. Break her if you must.” There was a hard edge to Kane’s voice that Clarke didn’t like at all. There was so much more he wasn’t telling her but as coven leader, he had every right to his secrets. So long as they didn’t directly harm the coven.   
But Clarke had a feeling this next phase would hurt her friendship with Octavia and the fragile connection she has with Bellamy. But Kane was in charge. She couldn’t disobey a direct order.   
“Break her? You want me to kill her?” Clarke swallowed past the break in her voice and hoped Kane didn’t call her out on it.  
“I want you to wake her up.”   
That made Clarke almost slam on the brakes. That meant Octavia was on of them. She was a witch.   
And it was Clarke’s job to wake that part up in her. It was Clarke’s job to bring out Octavia’s affinity.   
Well, shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, guys. Two chapters this week? Dang. Applause for me, please. And did you guys see last night's episode of The 100?!?!? Come cry with me. And I'll be sure to update next week once again! REVIEW.


	9. Chapter 9

“It is hotter than Satan’s balls outside,” Octavia said, barreling through the front doors of the café. Clarke had already been on the clock for two hours when Octavia came in to start work. Normally Clarke got off before her, but she’d grab a table in the corner or hover by the counter on slower days, and wait for Octavia to be done. It was a pretty stable system they had established in only a few weeks of work.   
“I’m a little concerned how you know exactly how hot Satan’s balls are, but I’ll believe you,” said Clarke. “Even with the AC on in here, I can feel the heat trying to suffocate us from the windows!”   
Octavia laughed and shook her head. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”  
“My hero.”   
Octavia disappeared behind the swinging doors to clock in and grab and apron, but the jingling of the door’s bells forced Clarke’s attention.   
“Lincoln?” shock colored her voice. “What are you doing here?”  
Lincoln leaned forward on the counter and smiled. The ease with which he smiled made Clarke’s heart warm. It was nice to see Lincoln back to himself.   
“I came for the caffeine, Griffin. Why else would I be here?”   
Just as he asked that question, Octavia returned to the front.   
Clarke chuckled to herself. “I can think of a few reasons.”  
“Hi,” Lincoln managed to get out. His mouth kept opening and closing, gaping like a damn fish.   
“Okay,” Clarke muttered. “Lincoln, it was great to see you but I have to get back to work.” She tried to usher him out of the café, but Octavia called out to him.  
“Wait,” she said. “Do I know you from somewhere?”   
Clarke waited, ready to intervene with some excuse as to why he seemed so familiar. Not because he was stalking her or anything, oh no. It was because Lincoln just had one of those familiar faces. Yeah, Clarke would have to think of a better reason.   
“Funny,” Lincoln said. “I was going to ask you the same thing,” he smiled.   
Smooth, Linc. Real smooth, Clarke thought.   
He jogged back to the counter and, avoiding Clarke’s glare, stuck a hand out to Octavia. “I’m Lincoln.”  
“Octavia,” she answered. “You friends with Clarke?”  
“Yeah, best friends, actually.”  
“Ah, so I have some competition for that position.”  
“I’m always up for a challenge,” he winked.   
The smiles they sent each other made Clarke shudder. It was weird seeing someone she saw as her brother flirting with her newfound friend.   
“He was just leaving,” Clarke finally got out. She said it loudly, trying to draw Lincoln’s attention away from her.   
“Well it was nice to meet you,” said Octavia.   
“Right. Yeah. Nice to meet you. I’ll see you around!” Lincoln walked back, his gaze never leaving Octavia’s, and then his back collided with another customer walking in.   
Octavia laughed at him and Clarke couldn’t help but smirk and shake her head. It was obvious Lincoln really liked Octavia. Clarke just had to make sure it wasn’t her soul he hungered for.   
“Caramel Macchiato,” the young girl ordered. She couldn’t have been older than 12. Wow. No way this little girl had any business drinking caffeine. So Clarke gave her as little caffeine as she could, doubling up on the sugar instead.  
“So, have you talked to my brother yet?” Octavia asked suddenly.   
Clarke swallowed. “Yeah actually. He called.” Yeah, he called. Two nights ago. He had called the night after Clarke left Lincoln’s. It was a short call that he said was just to check in on her and make sure she was okay. Although she had told him she was fine, Clarke was not fine. She missed Bellamy something fierce. Every time she thought about him, something in her chest would constrict and for a moment it was difficult to breathe. They ended the call promising to talk during the week. Well, it was Wednesday and they still hadn’t talked.   
“Are you going to see him?” Octavia asked.  
“I don’t know, O. I want to.”  
“Then what’s the problem?”  
“Here you go,” Clarke said, handing the girl her drink. She turned back to Octavia. “I’m scared, okay? I don’t know what to say or what he’ll say. And that scares me.”   
Octavia sighed. “Look, I don’t know what happened in the span of like a day that you two were together, but my brother is miserable. He misses you, I can tell. And it’s okay to be scared about what you’ll both say, but you have to talk. That’s the only way to get past this, whatever it is exactly.”  
Clarke smiled at Octavia. “You’re too smart for your own good.”  
“I know,” Octavia beamed. “That’s why I came up with a genius plan for you to come swimming at my place and you can talk to my brother there.”  
While Octavia was right, it was the perfect opportunity for Clarke to talk to Bellamy, Clarke couldn’t ignore that it was also a perfect opportunity to try and figure out what Octavia’s element was. After hanging around Octavia at work, Clarke still wasn’t sure what affinity she could have, but she guessed it had to be Soul Seeker. What other reason could there be that Lincoln was so intrigued by her? But Clarke had yet to test that theory.   
Testing someone for a specific affinity was tricky. There were different tests for different affinities, and depending on how far a person’s element was buried, there were also different degrees of intensity performed during a test. Clarke hoped she wouldn’t have to be that intense in her testing.   
If there was anything Clarke could be grateful for, it was being born into the witching world. She was born into her affinity, knew from day one what she was and what it meant. From the ripe age of 5, Clarke had been training to control and maintain her power. She was always warned about the struggles of addiction to her power, but warning someone of the dangers and then experiencing that danger were two very different things.   
Clarke didn’t dwell on that thought for long, however, because she was part of a coven now. Addiction was the least of her problems. And right now, Clarke had a job to do.  
“Yeah, why not? Let’s swim,” she said.   
Octavia jumped in excitement and they both went back to work.   
Once their shifts had ended, Clarke drove them to the apartment.   
“Come on,” Octavia said, leading them up the stairs. “I have an extra suit you can wear and I just know Bellamy is going to love you in it.”  
Clarke laughed. The second she walked across the threshold of Octavia’s bedroom, she jolted to a stop. It had felt like she had hit an invisible barrier. A sucker punch to the gut, more like. Then Clarke’s powers went ravenous inside her. All the molecules that made up her body, the energy that powered her element, were bouncing off the walls inside her. It took a moment for Clarke to recognize what was causing this because she had only felt this sort of power once before, and it was before she killed Dante.   
Clarke studied Octavia’s room while she rummaged around her closet. With tentative steps that felt like there were 1,000-pound weights attached to her feet, Clarke let the energy draw her toward what she was looking for. Then she found it.   
There, on Octavia’s dresser, meshed in with all her other jewelry, was a stone. A blue stone.   
An amplifier, Clarke recognized. And it was an amplifier for Aquaria users.   
“Found it!” Octavia cheered.   
Clarke couldn’t tear her eyes away from the stone though. Its blue hue was drawing Clarke in like a moth to a flame.   
Octavia followed Clarke’s line of vision. “Pretty, isn’t it?”  
“Beautiful,” Clarke said automatically. “May I?” she asked, already drawing a hand forward to touch it. Just for a few seconds, Clarke told herself. She would only touch it for a few seconds.   
Her fingers brushed the coolness of the stone and Clarke inhaled deeply, her skin crawling with a prickling sensation, like her entire body had gone to sleep and was just now trying to wake up.   
“Where did you get it?” Clarke asked.  
“Someone gave it to me. Not sure who. But it was left on my doorstep.”  
And then it all fit. Kane knew what Octavia was. He sent the stone to her. Clarke suddenly knew what she had to do in order to wake Octavia up. And a swim day was the perfect setting for her test.

It took a while for Clarke to pull herself away from the amplifier resting in Octavia’s room. She had watched the young girl touch and fondle the stone like it was just a piece of rock. It made Clarke wonder just how deep down Octavia’s powers were buried.  
“Ugh,” Clarke groaned to herself in the bathroom. The red bikini Octavia threw at her was much smaller in the chest area than Clarke would have liked. A wrong move in the water and Clarke could very easily be topless. She yanked her shirt over the top and folded the rest of her clothes away. She padded her way to the front door where Octavia was waiting.  
“She’s my friend, Bell. I can bring her here if I want to. Plus, you two can’t avoid each other forever,” she heard Octavia say.   
Clarke hovered near the entryway and when it became apparent that the two siblings weren’t going to relent in their face-off, she cleared her throat.   
Bellamy’s back had been to her but when he turned toward her, she sucked in a breath. Seeing him after all the time that had passed made her chest ache and her fingers clench, begging for his touch.   
Clarke had to calm herself down before she smiled. “Hey, Bell.”   
Bellamy felt rooted in place by her piercing stare. We wanted to drown in the blue of her eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, anything really, but then his gaze drifted to her attire. She was wearing a t-shirt. And it looked like nothing else. But then he remembered Octavia saying they were going swimming. Bellamy couldn’t take his eyes off her mile-long legs. They looked smooth and delicate, but Bellamy had no doubt that Clarke could fight like hell with those legs of hers.  
“Clarke, you don’t need to wear your shirt down to the pool,” Octavia said, tossing a towel to her.   
She chuckled shyly and Bellamy saw a blush form on her cheeks. Oh, now he was really curious what was under the shirt. But they had so much to talk about before he could even think to touch her like he wanted to.  
“O, could you give me and Clarke a minute, please?” he said.   
Octavia hovered, not sure if it was wise to leave Clarke and her brother alone. Sure she had mentioned that they should talk to each other about whatever problems they had, but she didn’t want to toss Clarke into the fire when she wasn’t ready yet. She wasn’t that harsh. Octavia waited for Clarke to meet her gaze.   
Clarke gave her a solid nod and then Octavia mumbled an okay before she left the apartment.   
They were quiet for a while, neither of them being the one to start a sentence for fear of saying the wrong thing and making the other storm out.   
But in the end, Bellamy spoke first. And he chose the words closest to his heart.   
“I miss you,” he said.   
Clarke trailed her fingers over the granite counter top. “I miss you too. A lot,” she added, taking a step closer. Then Clarke sighed, realizing there was too much to be said to go the quiet route. “Bellamy, I’m sorry for what I said, you know, about the whole soulmate thing.”  
It looked like Bellamy wanted to interrupt, but Clarke held up a hand and continued before he could get a word in.   
“I didn’t mean it. It’s not that I don’t believe in soulmates. I like to believe they do exist. But just because we’re meant for each other doesn’t mean we bypass the entire falling in love process. I want the first date, the first kiss after the date, the first hand-hold, the first sleepover, the first time we have sex. But I also want to be the last, Bell. That means we have to slow down. I know you want to know everything about what’s going on in my world, but I am asking you to be patient with me. There are some things that are going to be harder to explain unless you’ve spent more time in my world. I’m asking you to give us that time.”  
Clarke let out a long breath when she was finished. She had said her piece and hoped Bellamy would understand.   
He gave it a moment to sink in. She wanted time. Did that mean time apart? From her speech, she wanted to spend more time with him. And she wanted him to stop asking questions. That was probably not going to happen.  
In a flash, Bellamy was in front of Clarke, picking her up by her waist and depositing her on the counter. “Falling in love process? You want to fall in love with me, Princess?”   
Clarke laughed. Of course that’s the part Bellamy felt needed to be pointed out.   
“Look,” he went on, hands resting on her hips. “I hear you. But I would never rush you into something you weren’t comfortable with. I know we still don’t know a lot about each other, but I’m sure you at least know that. I wouldn’t intentionally do anything to hurt you. That doesn’t mean I won’t ever worry about you. I’m a worrier, Clarke. I worry about Octavia. I worry about my job. I worry about you. So don’t ask me to sit on the sidelines when you’re dealing with something because I won’t.” He bent down and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “That’s the process of falling in love with me, Princess.”   
Clarke smiled, really taking in Bellamy’s words. He was right. She couldn’t ask him to stop worrying about her anymore than she could stop worrying about him. When Bellamy said that was the process of falling in love with him, Clarke realized just how important compromise would be in their relationship.   
“I’ll answer what questions I can for you. I’ll give you as much as I can right now, Bell, I promise,” she said.   
Bellamy nodded. “The day you stayed over, and you got that phone call,” he started. “What was it about?”  
Clarke swallowed the lump that decided to form in her throat. “It was about Evan.”  
Bellamy visibly tensed. A tick had formed in his jaw.   
“It was okay,” Clarke placated. “He didn’t talk much. But,” Clarke hesitated. Bellamy already knew about the mess with Dante but having to tell him about being fooled a second time and getting caught up with someone who worked for Cage, that felt like a whole other battle.  
“It’s okay, Clarke. I can handle it.”  
She sighed. “I found out that Evan works for Cage.”  
“The guy who’s looking for you because you killed Dante?”  
Clarke snorted. “He’s not looking for me, Bellamy. He wants me dead.”  
“Hey,” he said, hands cupping her face. “That’s not going to happen.”   
Clarke had to believe that. She was pretty convinced that she could handle herself if it came down to her life or Cage’s, but she wasn’t convinced that she’d be able to handle the turmoil of killing his entire coven too.   
“So what does this mean?” Bellamy asked.  
“It means I have to be on the defensive right now. Kane advised I stay near the coven so that I’m protected. He also threw away the lock on my powers for now, but that could change.”  
“Good. I need to know that you can defend yourself if you need to.”   
She nodded.  
“Is that it?”  
Clarke considered what he had missed in their couple days of silence. She contemplated telling him about Lincoln and where she almost decided he didn’t need to know about him, Clarke realized how selfish she was being. If Bellamy was going to be part of her life, then she shouldn’t have to hide her family and friends from him. Especially if he’s trusting her around his sister.   
So she told him all about Lincoln. She told him about Linc’s powers and how he had jumped off the deep end and she was the only one who could bring him back. She even told him about the soul-sucking part.   
Bellamy didn’t like that part one bit. Lincoln could have hurt Clarke or worse, she could have been killed. Bellamy made a mental note that if he ever saw Lincoln in person, he’d have a long chat with him. The chat may require a punch to the face for good measure.   
“And that’s it? That’s everything?”  
They way he asked made Clarke’s mind instantly rush toward Octavia. No, that wasn’t everything, she had wanted to say. But she had a mission from Kane and she couldn’t go telling Bellamy about it. The more and more Clarke mulled it over, the more and more apparent it became that she could not tell Bellamy that Octavia was part of the witching world.   
Because if Octavia was part of that world, then why wasn’t Bellamy? Kane hadn’t given her the word on Bellamy. As it was, Kane seemed upset to find that Bellamy was Clarke’s soulmate. So that only left one thing on the table.  
Octavia wasn’t Bellamy’s sister. She was his half-sister.  
“Clarke?” Bellamy asked, shaking Clarke out of her thoughts.   
Clarke’s breath caught at the revelation though. If it was true, if Octavia was Bellamy’s half-sister, it was not in her place to reveal that information. She wasn’t sure what the info would do to Bellamy.   
“That’s everything,” she fumbled out.   
Bellamy noticed the look that crossed over Clarke’s face and the crinkle that passed over her brow. Maybe there was something more that she wasn’t telling, but she did promise to give Bellamy all that she could and, honestly, she had given up more than he originally thought she would.   
His princess deserved a reward for that.  
He tucked a finger under her chin and met her gaze. “You know,” he said, breath ghosting over Clarke’s lips. “You made quite the list of firsts that you wanted to conquer with me.”  
Clarke chuckled. “Mhmm, I did.”  
“But we kind of already had our first kiss. And our first sleepover. Unless you’re calling for a redo?” He pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth, mesmerized by the way her chest brushed his when he did. It made Bellamy wonder what was under the t-shirt. His hand crept to the bare skin of her thighs. Warm and silky.   
“I am calling for a redo,” she said, teasing. Clarke ran her hands along the muscles in Bellamy’s arms until they reached his shoulders.   
Bellamy nudged Clarke’s legs apart, stepping between them. His lips were a hairsbreadth away from hers and just when Clarke was going to close that distance, Bellamy moved his lips to her neck.   
He picked the spot below her ear and placed a gentle kiss just before he took a bite out of it and then began to suck. First he gave a tentative suck, testing Clarke’s reaction, and she let out a low gasp. Encouraged by that, Bellamy sucked harder.   
Clarke moaned, maybe louder than she had intended but Bellamy was spurred on by it. One of his hands crept back up her body, taking the t-shirt with him. He pulled away from her neck to watch the new skin exposed to him. As his hand trailed past her ribs, Clarke’s body erupted in shivers, but Bellamy didn’t stop.   
His hand grazed the side of Clarke’s breast and she arched into him, feeling her skin heat and vibrate with energy. He hadn’t even kissed her yet but Clarke was sure that the kiss would just spark an intense fire only Bellamy could put out.   
Bellamy was finally able to pull the t-shirt off of her and my god he couldn’t stop the curse that left his lips. “Fuck.”   
Her breasts were hardly covered by the thin red bikini. No way was that little piece of fabric able to hold up Clarke’s supple breasts. It defied the laws of physics. Before Bellamy could stop himself, he cupped both of her breasts in his hands.   
“Bell,” Clarke breathed. She arched again, this time her thighs tightening around his waist too. Her fingers grasped on to the back of his neck, wrapping in his hair, and she tried to pull his lips to hers but Bellamy slowed her down.   
He went back to that sweet spot he had started at on her neck. Except Bellamy wasn’t going for tender and sweet. No. Bellamy dove in like a starving man. He sucked hard and let his hands knead Clarke’s breasts.   
It was almost too much torture for Clarke. When she arched her back again, she pushed her hips forward and rubbed herself against Bellamy.   
That made him stop.   
He pressed his forehead against Clarke’s, trying to calm himself back down. But Clarke’s wasn’t having that.   
She rolled her hips against his again, waiting with bated breath to see his reaction.   
“Clarke,” Bellamy warned.   
This time when Clarke tried to lead Bellamy to her lips, he went willingly. “Kiss me,” she whispered.   
Bellamy hesitated. For what reason? He had no idea. Maybe because he liked the torture.   
Clarke rolled her hips again and pressed her chest against his. “Kiss me, please.”   
Far be it from Bellamy to make his princess beg. There was no gentle press, no tentative touches. Bellamy slammed his lips down to hers and when he caught a taste of her on his tongue, he growled.   
They battled it out in tongues, going back and forth between control and Clarke was loving every second of it. She loved feeling his fight and passion combating her stubbornness. She lifted her leg higher on Bellamy’s waist, closer to his ribs, and when both their hips met again, Clarke moaned. She could feel Bellamy’s erection pressed against her and it rubbed deliciously where she needed it most.   
One of Bellamy’s hands buried itself into her hair and gave a tug as he devoured her mouth. But then his hand was on the move. It coasted, feeling her breasts, feeling her ribs, feeling her hips, her thighs, until he felt the line of her bikini bottom. He let his finger trail along the seam and he waited.   
Clarke tried to move her body, angle it just right so that she could feel that finger trailing along something else, but he had her pinned so tightly to him and the counter that moving the angle was almost impossible. “Bell,” she whined. “Please.”   
Bellamy couldn’t believe that under all that hard and stubborn exterior, his princess was a greedy little lover. But Bellamy would always give her what she wanted. “Tell me what you want, princess.”   
She moaned against his lips. “You.”  
“You already have me. Be more specific.” Bellamy’s hand started to trail away from where he was sure Clarke wanted him to be.   
She whimpered in protest. “I want you to touch me.”  
Bellamy smiled against her lips and he delved in again before responding. “I’m already touching you, princess. Try again.” His hand started to move farther away again. But this time, Clarke’s hand shot out, covering his.  
She growled against his lips before she bit down on him, hard. “I want,” she started, moving his hand back down her body. “I want you to put your finger inside me.” Clarke had moved Bellamy’s hand back to the line of her bikini bottom.  
“Anything for you, princess.”   
Bellamy’s hand slid under her bikini and he instantly felt her wetness. “Fuck,” he muttered. He rubbed a finger over her bundle of nerves and she whimpered. He soaked up the sound, letting his tongue move in time to his finger.   
He moved his hand lower and tentatively stuck a finger into Clarke’s wetness. It swallowed him up, making him groan. “You’re so wet.”  
Clarke’s only answer was to moan. But before long, it wasn’t enough for Clarke. She needed more. “More,” she pleaded.   
Bellamy chuckled against her lips and buried another finger inside her. He picked up his pace and weaved his other hand further into her hair, clutching her closer to him. He felt the tightness of her nipples against his chest and wondered what would happen if he stuck them into his mouth.   
Next time, he promised himself. Because at the moment, his princess was close to orgasm. He could feel it in the way her walls tightened around his fingers and how her juices slithered out of her. He pumped faster.   
“Bell,” she moaned. Clarke bit down on her lip to try and control her sounds and words, but Bellamy wasn’t having that.  
He slammed his lips down on hers again, a bruising punishment, and dragged her bottom lip out from her teeth. “None of that, Princess. I want to hear you.” He pressed down on her clit. “Let me hear what I do to you.”   
Clarke cried out and moved her hips furiously against his hand. “Fuck me,” she whimpered.  
“Not yet,” Bellamy chuckled. “But that’s a first I plan to have with you.”   
“Faster,” she said against his lips.  
Bellamy braced a hand against Clarke’s lower back to hold her up, and then he set an unforgiving pace.   
“Fuck!” Clarke screamed. Her head fell back as her body erupted in a white-hot flash. A wave of heat and then ice swept over every part of her body. It wasn’t until the sensation fell to her toes that Clarke whimpered again and rolled her hips to completely ride it out. Her breathing labored, she smiled, feeling Bellamy’s lips at her neck again, bringing her back down.  
Bellamy reveled in the sound of Clarke’s heart beating wildly and the way the smell of her orgasm filled him. She came beautifully and he wanted to see her cum again. But that would have to wait.  
He slowly pulled his fingers out of her and she let out another whimper at the sensation. The way her walls tightened one last time against his fingers made him ache to be inside her, for it to be his cock that could feel that warm tightness instead. But he would feel it soon. Their moment on the kitchen counter was for Clarke. So Bellamy pulled back enough to kiss her gently. He coaxed her lips open and set a lazy pace as his tongue caressed hers.   
Despite the numbness that filled Clarke’s body, she brought her fingers to Bellamy’s zipper, ready to return the favor.   
“No,” Bellamy shook his head. “It’s okay. I didn’t do that because I wanted you to do the same. That was just for you.”   
“But you didn’t get off,” Clarke said. She wanted to see him, the way that he had seen her. But Clarke couldn’t forget that Octavia was still downstairs in the pool waiting for her, and that meant Clarke still had a mission to accomplish. There wouldn’t be enough time for her to ravage Bellamy the way she wanted.  
“I’ll handle it, Princess. We’ll have plenty of time for it later.” He kissed her again.   
Bellamy pulled away enough to let her off the counter, but left his hands on her hips, steadying her when he noticed the wobble from her knees. He smirked to himself.  
“Hey, Bell,” Clarke said, drawing his attention back. “I will tell you everything soon. I promise.”   
Clarke knew she would. She didn’t want to keep secrets from him. Especially him. And Clarke wasn’t sure just how far she would have to go to wake Octavia’s powers up. All of it, however, would demand an explanation from her.   
Bellamy smiled at the conviction in her voice. He was certain that the time would come where all her secrets would be laid out in front of him leaving her bare and vulnerable, much like when she came on the kitchen counter. And when it happened, he would be there for her, to show her that he was in this for the long haul, for better or worse and all that jazz. He would stand by her.   
“I know you will,” he replied, watching her leave the apartment.   
Bellamy glanced at his pants and felt his cock twitch. Time to fix his own problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoooo, the smut finally makes an appearance. Thoughts? And how about that recent episode of The 100?! THE BELLARKE! We need more. Anyway, hope you enjoy this update! REVIEW.


	10. Chapter 10

Clarke flinched when she felt cool drops fall on her bare stomach. “Hey!” she cried.   
“Get that look off your face,” Octavia said from the pool.   
“What look?” Clarke wiped away the drops and straightened herself on the tanning chair.   
“The look that says you and my brother made up and ravaged each other just now.”  
Clarke outright laughed at that. “I won’t argue with that statement.”  
“Gross!” Octavia yelled. She swam to the edge of the pool and brought her arms to rest on the edge, her face turning somber. “Hey, Clarke,” she started.   
Clarke opened her eyes against the sun and brought her arm up to shield her. “Yeah, O?”   
“I’m glad you’re with my brother,” she said. “I’m seeing him smile more. He doesn’t just drag his ass anymore. I’m pretty sure it’s because of you, so, thank you.”  
Clarke leaned forward in the chair, her hair falling down her shoulders. “Was he really that bad before?”   
“I wouldn’t say bad. He was never bad. But I could tell he wasn’t happy.” Octavia sighed. “I just don’t want my brother to see me as a job, you know?”  
A job. Octavia thought Bellamy saw her as a job? Clarke could relate to that. Not in regards to her and Bellamy, but Clarke has always felt that way about other people. A job, something that people had to endure. And if they weren’t enduring her it’s because they were using her. Dante, Evan, Cage, Kane, even her mom. But Clarke never felt that way with the Blakes. It broke her heard a little bit to know that Octavia thought of herself that way.   
“Bellamy loves you,” Clarke said. “You’re his family, not his job.”   
“I know. I just worry that maybe my mom put too much pressure on him when he was younger and it all just kind of stuck. Maybe a little too well.”  
Clarke couldn’t ignore the opportunity to open up this can of worms. “What happened to your mom?”  
“Car accident. I don’t remember much. Bell says I was too young to remember but he tells me it was a drunk driver. She lost control of the car and drove off a cliff.”   
Clarke couldn’t help but grimace. What an awful way to go. “I’m so sorry.”  
“Thanks,” Octavia said, eyes starring off into the distance. “It’s hard for me to feel bad. I don’t remember too much of my mom. Sometimes I feel guilty about that.” Octavia finally zoned back in and her eyes widened. “I’m so sorry,” she sputtered. “I don’t usually spew all that crap out to people.”  
“Not even to Bellamy?”   
Octavia shook her head.  
Clarke gave her a small smile, just something to reassure her. “Well if you can’t tell your brother you should at least be able to tell a friend. I’m glad I’m that friend for you.”  
“I’m glad you are too,” she smiled. Octavia pushed away from the wall and dropped underwater.   
It was Clarke’s reminder of what she had to do. And suddenly she felt like shit. One minute she was spewing things about friendship and being there for Octavia, but she had a mission to do. Octavia was a job. To Clarke at least. But she was quickly developing into something more. And so, all the things that Clarke had just finished saying to Octavia would still stand. No matter what power she exhibited, or how far Clarke would have to push her, she would still be there for Octavia when it all came undone.   
Octavia started to do a few laps back and forth in the pool and Clarke saw her moment. She stood from her chair and went to the pool’s edge. Octavia must have seen Clarke’s shadow because she stopped midstride in the middle of the pool and glanced at her.   
She wiped the water out of her eyes. “You okay, Clarke?”   
It was now or never, Clarke told herself. “Forgive me,” she said. Then she struck a hand out. Clarke curled her fist and watched the quick flash of terror in Octavia’s eyes just before she was dragged down to the bottom of the pool. Clarke could see Octavia’s figure, disembodied by the water, fighting to get back to the surface, but Clarke had a tight vise around Octavia’s waist. The water would feel a thousand times heavier on Octavia’s small frame, but Clarke wasn’t planning on doing anything else – just enough to hold Octavia down.   
“Come on, come on,” Clarke muttered. She knew Octavia would pass out soon if she didn’t use her powers. And Clarke was sure of it. Octavia had powers. Being in the water, holding the stone, it should all be working to chip away the wall that kept Octavia’s powers hidden.   
This was the final step. Aquaria wouldn’t let its host die. Not without a fight.   
But Octavia was still struggling.  
“Come on, wake up!” Clarke screamed at her. The fist Clarke had curled her hand into was starting to ache, but she couldn’t relent. She couldn’t give up on Octavia. That was how Clarke rationalized what she was doing to her friend. If Clarke pulled out now and called it quits, Octavia would never forgive her. If Clarke didn’t relent and Octavia woke up with her powers, sure she would still be pissed at Clarke, but Octavia would see why it was the only way. Octavia would understand.   
A few bubbles disrupted the surface of the water. That’s when Clarke noticed Octavia had stopped moving. Clarke took a tentative step forward, her fist still locked in its hold. She couldn’t let up yet. Octavia hadn’t woken up.   
Seconds turned into minutes, Clarke was sure of it, but Octavia still wasn’t moving. A cry burst from Clarke’s lips. What had she done?   
“Octavia, where did you put-”   
Clarke couldn’t make herself turn around to face Bellamy. Not when she had his sister dragged to the bottom of the pool.   
“Clarke?” he asked, noticing her tension. “Where’s O?” And then he saw Octavia’s body at the bottom of the pool. He jolted forward. “Octavia!”   
Bellamy threw himself into the pool, clothes and shoes still on, but Clarke was still frozen, her fist still clenched. What should she do? If she kept Octavia under any longer, she would die…if she wasn’t already. No, Clarke told herself, Octavia wasn’t dead. Her power wouldn’t let her be dead. So Clarke watched Bellamy swim to the bottom and grab his sister around her waist. The moment he touched her there, his skin came into contact with Clarke’s power. It shocked him away, a small spark to warn him off. But Bellamy wasn’t giving up. He gripped underneath Octavia’s arms and yanked, fighting against Clarke’s hold.   
But as Clarke continued to watch Bellamy struggle, seeing Octavia lose more and more air, seeing one Blake fight and the other slipping away, Clarke couldn’t handle that. She let go with a scream. Her fist unfurled and she sank to the edge of the pool, her knees hitting the concrete harshly. She couldn’t bear to look up. But she heard Bellamy breach the surface and take a large gulp of air. She didn’t hear Octavia do the same.   
“Octavia,” Bellamy cried again. He carried Octavia out of the pool and immediately set her down at the edge, going straight into chest compressions.   
Clarke finally found the courage to see the damage. Octavia wasn’t breathing. A sinking feeling came over Clarke. What if she really had killed Octavia? “No,” Clarke mumbled. She crawled over to Bellamy and Octavia on her knees, ignoring the rocks that stabbed her on the way over. She reached them just as Bellamy bent forward to breathe air into Octavia’s lungs for the third time. She still wasn’t breathing.  
Clarke brought her palms, one on top of the other, and placed them on Octavia’s chest. The murderous look on Bellamy’s eyes told her he wanted Clarke to stay far away from them, but he needed help. Clarke sat up on her knees and pressed down on Octavia’s chest, counting the beats. There was a moment that Clarke realized she could use her powers to save Octavia, but worried that using her powers would counteract Octavia’s, further burying them inside her. If Octavia’s powers needed to think its host was dying in order to wake up, then Clarke would restrain her use of power. But then was Clarke really any help at all? She continued her compressions once Bellamy pulled away again.   
Just when Clarke was ready to give in and use her powers, Octavia sat up suddenly. The momentum threw Clarke back a few feet.  
Whoa, Clarke thought. That kind of strength was no ordinary strength. And as the thought left Clarke, she saw Octavia’s eyes.   
They were glowing blue.  
“Thank gods,” Clarke muttered. She crawled back, hands bracing against Octavia’s legs, touching just to feel physically that Octavia was there well and alive. But then she was gone. Octavia was feet away and Clarke was air borne.   
He moved like a blur, one moment beside Octavia, stroking her hair, and then the next flying through the air, carrying Clarke with him and slamming her body against the hard brick wall.   
Clarke cried out as her back connected to the wall.   
“You could have killed her!” Bellamy yelled.   
Of course he would figure out that it was Clarke holding his sister down. He wasn’t stupid. Especially with the way Clarke hovered over the pool, watching it all unravel.   
“Bell!” yelled Octavia.   
Clarke wasn’t sure if Octavia feared for Clarke’s well-being or if she just didn’t want to see her brother make a scene because it was pretty obvious from the look on Octavia’s face that she knew it was Clarke who had done it too, somehow.   
“I wouldn’t have let her die,” argued Clarke. “And neither would her power.”   
Bellamy grit his teeth. He had seen Octavia’s eyes. But that didn’t excuse the fact Clarke almost killed his sister.  
“I don’t want you anywhere near my sister,” he said, voice low. Bellamy’s low voice was much more menacing than his yells. Clarke preferred a Bellamy that yelled at her than the one whose voice was dripped with anger right then and there. It forced Clarke to swallow loudly. For all her strength and power, Clarke suddenly felt small against the wall, against Bellamy’s tight hold.   
“As a matter of fact,” he went on. “I don’t want you anywhere near us at all. You and your kind are poison. You shouldn’t even be part of this world. And now look what you’ve done. You dragged my sister into this mess.”   
Clarke’s jaw locked. It was the only way to keep her watery eyes from spilling the tears they wanted to. And not because Bellamy was angry, or because he was saying harsh things to her. But because they were true. Clarke and her kind shouldn’t have been part of this world. They should have died out long ago. And now they lived in the tightest form of secrecy. So tight that if at any time it was breached, death was always the first option.   
“I was doing my job,” Clarke said, immediately regretting her choice of words. It would hit Octavia pretty hard to know she was a job after all. When she turned her gaze to Octavia, her eyes betrayed her and spilled a few tears.   
Bellamy dragged Clarke forward, gave her a shake, and then slammed her against the wall again. The action caught Clarke off guard and she yelped.   
“You don’t get to look at her like that, do you hear me? Because this is on you, Clarke. You did this. You and your lies.” Bellamy let her go and she slumped against the wall, the feeling of dejection coursing through every pore in her body.   
He was right, she reasoned. She did this.   
“Now get out of here,” he said, moving back to Octavia.   
Clarke was still pinned to the wall though, pinned by her emotions. She felt like taking any step at all would destroy her. It would set a bomb off. But as she watched Bellamy caress Octavia’s face, watched him pull back the wet tendrils of her hair and clutch her closer, Clarke knew she didn’t deserve to stay and watch them.   
She pushed off the wall, walked to the lawn chair and picked up the white tee. She didn’t even let herself glance at them on the way past the gate, telling herself she didn’t deserve that peace either. But Bellamy’s voice made her stop.   
He didn’t speak higher than his normal voice, but each word pierced through her.  
“If you’re not careful, your lies will end up killing someone, Clarke.” Bellamy paused. “Again. And someone much closer to you than he was.”   
The air got punched out of Clarke, it seemed. Clarke couldn’t believe Bellamy would use that against her now. She told him about Dante in confidence, because she trusted him with that information. And now he was using it against her.   
Kind of how you used Octavia. And he trust you with her, said a nagging voice in Clarke’s head. It was true though. And because of that, Clarke would take it. She would take whatever words or consequence came of her actions. She gulped and stood there for a moment longer before leaving the Blake siblings behind.  
Clarke was still shaking and trembling by the time she got inside her car. She started up her engine and drove home, needing to talk to the one person who could make her feel a little less like shit. Not take her guilt away, because Clarke deserved that. But he would remind Clarke about things like ‘duty’ and ‘doing what was right.’ Her dad would help her.  
She dialed his number and he answered on the third ring. “Clarke?”  
Her dad sounded a little winded. Maybe he had run to catch the phone, she thought.   
“Dad,” she said, voice breaking.   
“Honey, what’s wrong?”   
“I did something, dad. And I don’t know what to do now. Help me, please,” she continued to sob. She took a breath to try and calm herself down.   
Her voice caught when she heard shuffling on the other end.   
“I,” her dad hesitated.   
Clarke almost asked if something was wrong but he was speaking before she could ask.   
“I’m so sorry, Clarke. Do you want to tell me about it?”   
She sniffed. Yes, she did want to tell him. But she couldn’t, not while under Kane’s oath of secrecy. “Dad, do you remember when you would come home after work and we’d watch soccer game reruns with Wells and Thelonius?”  
Her dad chuckled on the other end. “Of course. You and Wells always had bets going on even though me and Thelonius knew how they would end.”  
“But you still let us bet. Why?”  
“Because I wanted you to learn to trust your gut.” She heard him sigh on the other end. “Listen to me, Clarke. You have always done what you are told and while I’m proud of how well you listen to those around you, I need you to start trusting yourself. You have a smart head on your shoulders. Trust it. Trust your gut. Trust your power, my sweet kid.”   
Clarke nodded against the phone and swallowed a cry that almost escaped. She opened her lips, letting the air out and wiped under her eyes, clearing the smudged mascara. “I’m on my way home,” she said to her dad.  
“Okay, honey. And Clarke?”  
“Yeah, dad?”  
“I love you.”  
Clarke smiled. “I love you too, dad. I’ll be home soon.”   
The line cut out so quick she wasn’t even sure her dad had heard the last part. Clarke set her phone down and made her way back home. The entire way there, Clarke kept repeating the scene in her head. Octavia’s fear moments before dragging her under, seeing her thrash around for help, then Bellamy jumping in, the look of betrayal and hatred in his glare. Trust your gut, her dad had said. Clarke tried to figure out what her gut had been telling her in that moment by the pool and, to be honest with herself, Clarke was sure her gut was telling her to keep Octavia under. How could that be possible? How could her gut be telling her to drown Octavia, even now in the car, her gut was telling her that she had done what was needed, what was right. But then Bellamy’s face would come into her mind again. Then Clarke felt her eyes tear up again. How they had gone from making out in his kitchen to him kicking her out the next moment, and his parting words. Clarke couldn’t shake those words either. She had a feeling this day would haunt her for a while, maybe even forever.   
“Dad? I’m home!” she called once she made her way inside. She took the stairs upstairs two at a time before making it to her room. She discarded Octavia’s bathing suit for a sports bra, loose shirt, and a pair of yoga pants. Tossing her hair into a messy bun, she made her way down to hall, thinking her dad would no doubt be in his study.   
“Dad?” she called again. “Hey, can we watch one of those rerun soccer games, I’ll even let you bet on the winning team and I’ll feign ignorance,” she teased. She pushed his already open study door further out.   
She halted at the threshold. A broken sob escaped her lips, then an ear-curdling scream. “Dad!” She ran forward, trying not to slip on the blood splattered on the floor. “Oh, fates, no,” she sobbed. Clarke knelt beside his chair, not even caring when her knees made a noise stepping in the pool of blood there. She cradled her dad’s face between her palms but tried not to jostle him.   
His throat had been slit.   
His blood was still running down his throat.  
The kill was fresh.  
And all Clarke could do was sob, loud and angry.   
If you’re not careful, your lies will end up killing someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. This chapter always gives me chills. Make sure to tell me your thoughts!! And can we all just agree that the latest episode of The 100 was kind of pointless. Nothing happened. They need to speed this storyline up (kinda like I need to with this story lol) Updates may come in a little slower, but the story will go on. REVIEW.


	11. Chapter 11

There was a loud ringing in Clarke’s ears. It was so insistent that it drowned out everything else around her. Her eyes narrowed into tunnel vision. All she could see was her dad sitting in his chair, throat slit open, blood everywhere. Her knees had gone numb at some point but she couldn’t remember when. Something warm touched her shoulder, making her flinch. But she still refused to move her gaze from her dad.   
“Clarke?” the voice said.  
It came out sounding disoriented though, like trying to speak under water.  
“Clarke, can you move?”   
She shook her head. She wasn’t sure she could move. Part of her didn’t want to.   
“Clarke, we need to move now. We have to go.”  
Someone grabbed her under her arms, trying to heave her up. That made Clarke snap.   
She threw herself at her dad’s feet. “No!” she screamed. “I can’t move.”  
Things started to blur into focus again. Clarke noticed the water coating the floor and she turned her head to see where it was coming from. The walls, she realized, where the pipes were. Had she done that? She couldn’t remember. But the metallic smell of blood still made her grip her dad’s legs, refusing to leave.   
“Clarke,” said the voice again.   
When she turned, she realized it was Jasper. And behind him stood his best friend, Monty.   
They both crouched on the floor in front of her, hands out as if trying to placate a wild animal. Maybe that’s what Clarke was.   
“I know you’re hurting,” Jasper said. “But we can’t stay here forever.”  
A whimper escaped her before the tears followed the sound. Clarke swallowed it back and wiped at her eyes. “Why not?”   
“We should lay your father to rest, don’t you think?”   
Lay him to rest, she repeated. There was no peace in this. No, she told herself. The only peace to be granted would be in Cage’s death. There was no doubt in Clarke’s mind that this was all Cage’s doing. She raised her head again, looking into her dad’s still open eyes. There was still so much she needed him for, so much she wanted to share with him. But she kept it all in. And now she wouldn’t have a chance.   
“You’re right,” she said finally. “He needs rest.”   
Clarke rose up to her feet, laying a hand out on the desk to help steady her weak knees. Her hand stuck to some of her dad’s paper work but her eye had caught a torn sheet on the edge of the desk. Her mind couldn’t rest, even now, and so she looked at what was written there.   
It was an address. And one she recognized. She turned her head slightly to see if Jasper or Monty had noticed it, but they were busy calling someone on the phone.   
She faced her dad again and, gritting her teeth and biting back the tears, she reached forward to close his eyes. “May we meet again,” she whispered for him. She knew he wouldn’t get the same burial her and her people received, but as far as Clarke was concerned, her dad was her people. Clarke was just starting to realize the double meaning in fighting for your people.

Two days had passed. Two days and Clarke couldn’t seem to get herself out of bed. She and her mom had been staying at Kane’s manor for the time being and Clarke was content to keep herself in the room they placed her in, ignoring the world. Except it was the day of her dad’s funeral.   
She sat on her bed in her finely pressed black dress and black pumps, her black hair was pulled into a tight pony tail because she couldn’t be bothered to brush it out. She hadn’t let anyone in to help her even though they offered, several times. She also didn’t bother with make up. She just wanted it to all be over.  
Her phone buzzed on the dresser by the window but Clarke didn’t even flinch. It had gone off a few times throughout the day but she couldn’t get herself to get up and pick up, or even sit up and give a shit that it was going off.   
She didn’t let her mind wonder to anything. She blocked out all thoughts involving Cage, her powers, Bellamy, Octavia, even Lincoln. When her phone rang again, she had half a mind to reach across and throw it to the wall. But that would require her to move. She wasn’t ready to yet.   
A light knock came from the door.   
“Clarke?” Jasper. “There’s someone here to see you.”  
Please don’t be Bellamy, Clarke prayed. Her prayers were answered. It wasn’t Bellamy. It was Lincoln.   
Lincoln was dressed in his fancy pants and button up black shirt. Clarke watched him move across the room in record time before his arms engulfed her. Lincoln hated the tension in her body from his embrace but he didn’t let her go. He heard the door shut as he caressed her back. “I’ve been calling,” he said. “I was so worried. I didn’t want to just show up at your house in case your mom was there.”   
Abby had never taken a liking to Lincoln, especially after she heard that he was involved in Evan’s gang along with Clarke. Abby blamed Lincoln for that.   
“I even went to your mate’s house,” he said.   
Clarke stiffened even more in his arms. Lincoln pulled back.   
“Did you tell him anything?” she asked, her voice coming out scratchy, raw.   
“About your dad? No, I didn’t even know. But I don’t think he’s fond of me. He punched me when I said who I was.”  
Despite her feelings, despite all the shit going on around her, Clarke smiled. Bellamy had that power over her. But he wanted nothing to do with her.   
Lincoln’s finger went under Clarke’s chin and he met her gaze. “I’m so sorry about your dad, Clarke. He was a good person. The best.”   
Clarke nodded, swallowing back the sob that wanted to break free. And she knew that, that her dad was a good person. He had always wanted to take care of other people. He didn’t care if they were witch or human. In fact, despite all the restrictions placed on him, for being married to Abby, for being part of their world but never fully in it, he still treated everyone in the coven kindly. The amount of times Clarke would hear whispers about him when everyone thought she wasn’t listening made her pissed. But her dad always advocated for peace, for the freedom of speech everyone had. He didn’t want them to stoop to their level.   
“You need to help Octavia,” Clarke said.   
“What’s wrong with Octavia?” Lincoln said, suddenly more on edge than before.  
Clarke placed a hand over Lincoln’s. “I awakened her, Linc. She needs someone there to help guide her through the changes.”   
Lincoln blinked several times at the news. “She what? I mean, I sensed something but I didn’t think-” he cut off. “Shit, Clarke.” He rubbed his neck.   
A small smile touched the corners of Clarke’s mouth, the first time in days, when she thought of Octavia’s eyes shining with Aquaria. “She has Aquaria, Linc.”   
He smiled more fully, feeling like he had to smile for Clarke too. She didn’t know too many Aquarias and the few she did know feared her. “Why are you sending me? We’ll both go. After today, you and I will go check on her,” Lincoln said.   
Clarke was already shaking her head before Lincoln finished. “I can’t.” She contemplated telling Lincoln the full story of what had happened with Octavia and Bellamy but a part of her feared what Lincoln would think of her.  
“I don’t understand. Don’t you want to make sure she’s okay? Help her?”  
“Of course I do,” Clarke argued. “But,” she hesitated. “Bellamy kind of banned me from them.”  
“Banned you?”  
Clarke sighed. She would have to tell Lincoln, there was no choice. Lincoln wouldn’t let it go until he got a satisfying answer. “I had orders to wake her up, Linc. I was given very strict orders to do so by any means. I had no choice.” Clarke ducked her head down, thinking by avoiding Lincoln’s gaze it would help ease some of her guilt.   
But she heard Lincoln sigh and curse under his breath and Clarke could feel his disappointment radiating off of him. She was already pulling away from his embrace when his arms shot forward again and crushed her to his chest.  
“Don’t blame yourself, Clarke. You did what you had to. And you woke Octavia up. She was born for this world and now she can find her rightful place,” he said, crushing her even tighter to his chest. It was almost like Lincoln was trying to squeeze the guilt out of her and Clarke had to appreciate his efforts. She only wished it was that simple.  
“Either way. I can’t go back. Bellamy told me to stay away and after what I did to her…” she trailed off. “They don’t want to see me. But I still need to make sure that Octavia is taken care of. She’s going to have a lot of questions and trouble getting a handle on her powers. I need you to help. She knows you. You’re a familiar face. She’ll trust you.”   
“I know,” Lincoln sighed. “But it should be you. I know you say that you’re banned from them, but you and I both know that the bond shared between a witch and the one who awakens them is a special and strong bond. Or at least it can be. It won’t mean the same coming from me,” he said.   
“Please, Linc,” Clarke sighed. She rubbed a hand over her forehead and it was the first move she made since she sat on that bed. Her moves felt stiff and she made a mental note to move around more.  
“Alright,” he said. “I’ll go.” Lincoln hated that he would be leaving Clarke to go through her dad’s funeral, but she had asked this of him. She needed him to do this. So Lincoln rose from the bed, placed a gentle kiss to Clarke’s hair, and left. He hoped she would make it through this, but Lincoln had no doubts when it came to Clarke’s strength. He only hoped that she realized just how strong she could be.

Bellamy came into the kitchen, phone in one hand, and take out menu in the other. “Hey, O, do you want-”   
“Ah,” Octavia screamed, obviously caught off guard by Bellamy’s entrance. She jumped and in the process the sink faucet came bursting off the sink and flying into the air. It hit the counter with a loud clank and water spewed everywhere.   
“Damn it!” she groaned. She and Bellamy rushed to the sink, one trying to stop the water by putting her hand over it, and the other reaching for the faucet on the counter. Bellamy jammed the faucet back over the bursting water and slammed his palm down over it, making sure it was secure in its place. He turned the faucet on to test the waters and thankfully it was working properly.   
“You okay?” he asked.   
Octavia hesitated. She wanted to assure her brother that she was fine, but truth be told, Octavia was freaking out. She didn’t understand what was happening to her and Bellamy’s cliff-notes version of what she was and what world she was now part of just wasn’t giving her the comfort she needed. But Octavia would never voice that aloud because that meant admitting that turning Clarke away was a mistake. And frankly, she wasn’t sure how she felt about Clarke at the moment.  
“I’m fine,” she finally answered.   
A knock came from the door, scaring Octavia and setting the faucet bursting from the sink all over again. She groaned as the water jettisoned out of the sink and sprayed both her and Bellamy.  
“Fix that,” Bellamy said, pointing to the sink. “I’ll get the door.” Bellamy looked through the peephole on the door and groaned when he saw Lincoln through the hole.   
“What do you want?” Bellamy demanded.  
“Cool your head, officer. I’m not here to see you,” Lincoln bit out. He couldn’t help being pissed at Bellamy for turning Clarke away. On the drive over, Lincoln tried to understand Bellamy’s point of view, and he did, but he was born and raised in the same world Clarke grew up in. He had to make some of the same sacrifices Clarke had. He understood. And for that, he was pissed at Bellamy for Clarke being riddled with guilt. It should be her at his front door. It should be her helping Octavia.   
“If you think I’m going to let you in then you are dumber than you look,” Bellamy said.   
In the kitchen, Octavia groaned in frustration. “Fucking sink!”   
“Language,” Bellamy reprimanded.   
Lincoln chuckled as he watched Octavia fumble with the faucet. “That’s not going to help,” he said.   
Octavia finally abandoned the sink and turned her gaze to Lincoln. She couldn’t help the way her eyes widened and the smile that stretched her face. “Lincoln,” Octavia smiled. “What are you doing here?”  
“Clarke sent me,” he answered.   
Bellamy stiffened. Octavia on the other hand, raced forward, shoving Bellamy out of the way and letting Lincoln in through the door. She shut it behind him. “Are you like her?” Octavia hesitated. “Like me?”  
Lincoln stepped forward, coming closer. “Not exactly like you, but we are part of the same world.”   
Octavia’s heart sped up. The words he chose, saying they were now part of the same world, the same group, it made Octavia feel included. Like she mattered.   
“Okay, no,” Bellamy said. He grabbed hold of Lincoln’s collar and yanked him back, slamming him against the wall. “You need to leave.”  
“Bellamy!” Octavia scolded. “Stop it.”  
“No, O. This is enough. I’m sick of these freaks showing up here and shoving their way into our lives!”   
Octavia crossed her arms. “Stop it, Bell! I AM one of those freaks.”   
Bellamy’s hand curled into fists. “I didn’t mean you.”   
“But that’s the reality of it, isn’t it? I am part of them now, Bell. You’ll always mean me when you say things like that.”   
Bellamy released Lincoln to turn toward Octavia. He held his hands out in defeat. “You’re not like them, O. You wouldn’t lie to me, or those you care about. You wouldn’t sacrifice me or a loved one just for some damn coven or leader or whatever shit Clarke used as an excuse.” Bellamy huffed, getting heated over his own hatred toward Clarke. It was an odd sensation to describe. But Bellamy was madder at himself for being mad at Clarke. He just couldn’t help it. And it only got worse when just a few days ago he felt a huge fucking tear in his chest. Like whatever connection he had established with Clarke was splintered, or breaking. But he couldn’t be sure that’s what the pain in his chest meant. He refused to acknowledge it though. So he gritted his teeth and ran a hand roughly through his hair. “Clarke took the cowards way out of this. Her cowardess almost killed you.”  
Suddenly Bellamy was airborne. The strength it took to lift him from the ground and propel him through the air was something a normal human couldn’t do. And Bellamy was powerless. His back hit the wall, his head bouncing off it too. He vaguely heard Octavia scream and swore he heard the shower go off but Lincoln’s face was crowding Bellamy’s space before he could think about it.   
“You do not talk about her that way,” Lincoln growled. “You have no idea the sacrifices she has had to make. Or the sacrifices she’s making now.”  
Bellamy tried to push Lincoln away. “Her sacrifices?” he said, outraged. “Like the sacrifice to kill a coven leader and end up killing everyone tied to him? Or the sacrifice to hide away with a shit guy like Evan and do more bad things? Or how about the sacrifice she made to lie to my face and then almost kill my sister?” Bellamy was on a role. He didn’t even care that Lincoln was glaring so fiercely at him. He continued anyway. “Her ‘sacrifices,’” he mocked. “They will end up hurting someone much closer to her.”  
“It already has,” Lincoln seethed.   
“What?” Bellamy stopped struggling against Lincoln. “What do you mean?”  
Lincoln snarled before bringing his face closer. “If you had taken the time to see things from Clarke’s perspective, and get your head out of your ass, maybe you’d know just how much she’s hurting right now.” Lincoln almost came out and said the truth. But Clarke made it seem like she didn’t want Bellamy to know. Lincoln personally thought that was a load of shit but he held his tongue.  
Bellamy had a nagging feeling in his chest, in the same place where that pain from earlier had erupted, that he was missing something vital. But as always, his mouth was working a lot faster than his brain. “If you ask me, she deserves that hurt.”   
The next thing Bellamy knew, there was a mind-blowing pain across his jaw. And he was on the floor. He couldn’t hear any noise for a couple seconds and his jaw seriously felt displaced. But as he groaned, feeling slowly came back to his face. He moved his jaw, testing if it was broken. It seemed fine. But there was blood spilling from the corner of his mouth.   
Lincoln appeared over him with Octavia hanging off his arm, trying to hold him back. But Lincoln wasn’t letting up. He pointed a finger at Bellamy. “How can you even say that about your soulmate?”   
The word slammed into Bellamy’s chest and, for just a second, Bellamy thought he had been punched in the chest too. That pain he felt there a few days ago came back ten fold. It was tugging at him, pulling on the strings that ached for Clarke’s soul, for her heart.   
“Let me explain something to you,” Lincoln said. “In our world, we are raised with the notion that sacrifices must always be made. It is how we maintain our secrecy, how we keep our loved ones safe, if you can believe that. Our secrets are secrets for your protection. We share what we can and we filter the rest. That’s how we live. Breaching that rule, it doesn’t just mean a clear heart and mind. It means the death of our loved ones. And just a few days ago, Clarke learned that the hard way.”   
“What do you mean?” Bellamy asked, rising to his knees. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him he wouldn’t like the answer.   
“You need to understand something. When Clarke’s mom married Jake, it went against all the rules. He’s not a witch and he’s not Abby’s soulmate. But she chose him anyway. And Abby was selfish with him. She loved him in ways our kind can’t for the sake of our secrecy. She shared too much with him and, in turn, so did Clarke.”   
“What are you saying, Lincoln? Spit it out.” Bellamy rose to his feet.   
“Clarke’s father is dead.”  
Bellamy staggered. No, he told himself. There was no way. Bellamy had worked with Jake Griffin at one point at the precinct. Jake was a good person, one of the best. There was no way that he was dead. It couldn’t be that easy to take someone so kind-hearted and good from the world. He shook his head. “When?” he managed to get out.  
“Two days ago. Clarke found him in his study.”   
“Shit,” Bellamy muttered under his breath. Clarke had found him. If Bellamy was already hating himself for all the shit that happened and missing Clarke, his guilt was eating him alive now. He remembered the last words he had said to her. And fuck if he didn’t feel like absolute shit.   
He shook his head. “She didn’t tell me. She didn’t.” Of course she didn’t, he scolded himself. He had told her to stay away from them.   
“Even in her grief, she sent me here. She understands what Octavia is going through,” Lincoln said, tilting his head toward a tear-streaked Octavia. “She knows how scared she must be feeling, how confused, and frustrated. But she couldn’t fathom the idea that Octavia would have to face all this alone. She is still willing to put the people she cares about above her needs. She has always done that.”  
Bellamy cursed. He had fucked up so royally. While he was still mad that Clarke had almost killed his sister, he did believe her, despite it all, that she wouldn’t have actually killed her. He recounted that day so many times in his head. Clarke had said from the beginning that there were things she wouldn’t be able to tell him until later, until it was okay and safe to do so. And he agreed to it! Yet he went and got pissed that she held back. They had so much to talk about. But for now, he knew he would need to swallow his pride and get to her. Now.

Clarke’s fingers dug into the pile of dirt beside her dad’s casket. She wasn’t completely used to normal human funerals. Their kind called for the burning of the body and a long night full of prayer, begging the Fates to guide the spirit and element of the deceased to the stars. Because of that, it was easy to spot the witches in attendance. Not that they were unfamiliar with the ritual, but it always left them feeling a little uneasy.   
Not Clarke though. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling. Her dad deserved this rest, of course. But is this what he would have wanted? Despite the coven turning him away because he wasn’t one of them, her dad fully considered himself part of their world. He knew about their traditions. Would this be what he wanted? Clarke bit her tongue because the truth was she would never get the answer to that question. Her dad was gone. She understood that. But when she sprinkled the top of his casket with the dirt, she wanted to call out for him. He’s right there, her mind yelled at her. He’s not gone. He’s just inside that box.   
Clarke took a breath as she watched her mom do the same with the dirt. But it suddenly felt like Clarke couldn’t breathe, like her lungs had forgotten their purpose. She turned away, moving past the crowds that showed up for her dad. She recognized people from the precinct. Captain Jaha was there and expressed his deepest condolences while apologizing that his son couldn’t be there. But Clarke hadn’t talked to Wells in years so she wasn’t surprised.   
Faces had blurred as she continued to make her way. The further and further she moved from her dad’s casket, the harder it got for her to breathe. And having all these people showering her with condolences and pity looks was just smothering her even more. The next thing Clarke knew, she was bracing herself against a tree, letting the shadows keep her hidden for a few moments. She just needed to fucking breathe. A simple action had never been so difficult before.  
“Clarke?” a voice interrupted her quiet.   
She didn’t bother looking toward the voice. She recognized it as Finn’s. But she wasn’t in the mood to pretend around him.   
“I wanted to make sure you were okay. You kind of look like you’re about to pass out,” he said.   
Well no shit, Sherlock, she wanted to say. But she bit her tongue. She had to focus on breathing anyway. “I’m fine,” she managed.   
“I’m real sorry about your dad. He was a good man.” Then Clarke felt a hand on her shoulder.   
She flinched instinctively, only the tiny bit concerned that Finn would take that move the wrong way. But then she remembered that breathing was difficult.   
“I’m here for you,” Finn continued.   
Clarke squeezed her eyes shut and a whimper left her before she could stop it. Finn was only making this worse. She didn’t want Finn there. Clarke knew damn well who she needed there with her, and there was no way that was happening.   
Clarke was slowly breaking and she feared if Finn opened his mouth again, she’d completely lose it. So she pushed off the tree, squared her shoulders, and faced Finn. “Thanks,” she said, stepping away.   
Finn’s hand shot out before she could move though. She yelped, not because he hurt her or anything, but because his touch wasn’t the touch she wanted. But he was the only one there and that fact kept shoving itself in Clarke’s face.   
“Collins.”  
Clarke actually stopped breathing that time. She snapped her eyes shut again and shook her head. No. Her mind was playing tricks with her and that was damn cruel. Because there was no way Bellamy was standing in front of her.   
“Blake,” she heard Finn say. His hand hadn’t moved from her forearm yet.   
“I’ve got it from here,” is all he said. His tone left no room for argument and Finn bristled. What right did Bellamy have to order Finn around, Finn wondered. But Finn got his answer fairly quickly.  
Clarke finally allowed herself to look in Bellamy’s direction and the moment her eyes locked on his, his were already watching hers. His face was blank. He didn’t seem angry or mad. He was just there. Exactly what Clarke needed. And she broke the fuck down. A sob broke from her lips and she took a shaky step forward trying to get to Bellamy. But her legs failed her, her cries consuming her, and she fell to her knees on the ground. Bellamy was there in a heartbeat wrapping his arms around her suddenly small and frail frame. She shook in his arms and Bellamy swallowed. He had a feeling she would need him and that her breaking down was a very likely possibility. There was something about being in each other’s arms that made it okay to lose control.   
In Bellamy’s arms it was safe for Clarke to break.   
“Shh,” he said. “I’ve got you.” He lowered his tone for her and rubbed circles into her back.   
Finn watched it unfold. He couldn’t believe that Blake, his partner of all people, would move in on Clarke when Blake knew how he felt about her. But even worse, Finn hated that he was letting it get to him at Jake’s funeral. It wasn’t the time or place. So, with one last look at Clarke, her face practically buried in Bellamy’s chest, he left them.   
Bellamy felt the trembles tearing through Clarke’s body one cry at a time and he knew she’d eventually cry herself out. He braced his arms under her legs and lifted her off the ground. He cradled her head against his chest where she immediately latched on, gripping his neck and continuing her cries. Everyone was staring at them, waiting to see how it would all go down. But Bellamy wasn’t planning on giving them a show.   
He caught Abby’s gaze among the crowd. With a slight nod to her head, Abby told Bellamy to get Clarke out of there. She knew her daughter would be better off with Bellamy than staring blankly at a wall in Kane’s manor.   
Bellamy didn’t waste another second. He took off with Clarke in his arms and slid in his truck with her still cradled to him. He shifted in the seats to rest her on his lap, her legs tucked over his thighs, and then he started the engine. For a second her cries were muffled by the loud start of the engine, but then it lowered to a dull rumble and her cries triumphed over.   
Maneuvering his arms around her, he shifted gears until he was in drive and headed back toward his apartment.   
Clarke was in and out of it since she looked into Bellamy’s eyes at the cemetery. She wasn’t sure where she was only that the steady roll of the car was lulling her into sleep. But her tears wouldn’t stop. They just kept coming. The sun had gone down by the time they made it back to his apartment but the lights on overhead in the parking garage felt too bright to Clarke’s puffy eyes. She burrowed further into Bellamy’s chest. She waited for him to move her, or disentangle her arms from his neck, but instead he turned the car off and wrapped his arms around her. His sympathy, his strength, he was giving it all to her and that only made it harder for Clarke to handle. He didn’t have to be there, didn’t have to come get her from the cemetery, or even let her cry into his shirt. But he did.   
Because Bellamy Blake was a good person.   
Just like her dad.   
Clarke knew that Bellamy and her dad had worked together at some point, but she had a feeling that if she had introduced Bellamy as something more, then Jake would have loved him like a son.   
“You think?” he whispered against her hair.   
Had Clarke said that out loud? She sniffled and took a breath to help compose herself at least somewhat. She had been crying for so long.  
“Where are we?” Her voice sounded so small and frail. It twisted Bellamy’s heart a bit because he knew she was stronger than this. But even the strongest person needed to break down once in a while. So he tightened his arms around her.   
“My place. Come on,” he said, opening the door. “You should rest.”   
Clarke could already feel her eyes closing, so she followed him out of the truck. Her steps were sluggish and Bellamy seriously thought she would pass out on the steps if he didn’t pay close attention.   
They both remained quiet on their way up, but something shifted in the air. Now that Clarke wasn’t breaking in Bellamy’s arms it felt like there was too many words that needed to be exchanged between them. Neither of them knew how to approach it though.   
Clarke barely made it into the kitchen before Octavia was there. Octavia stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the hallway to her bedroom. She made no move to actually go to Clarke even though she wanted to. She really wanted to give Clarke a hug but Octavia wasn’t exactly sure where things stood between them, or Bellamy and Clarke for that matter.   
“I’m sorry about your dad,” Octavia said. Her eyes softened and she gave Clarke a weak smile.   
But that weak smile turned Clarke the wrong way. Especially those eyes. Maybe Octavia didn’t mean it, but she brought the truth out to Clarke – a truth that maybe she had been ignoring from the moment she collapsed in Bellamy’s arms.   
She saw pity in Octavia’s eyes. She was apologizing and giving her a weak smile because she felt sorry for Clarke. Clarke turned a head to Bellamy who was watching Octavia the whole time, a stern look on his face. Yeah, he was still pissed. So he went to Clarke out of pity too? Clarke couldn’t handle it.   
She swallowed past the growing lump in her throat and shook her head slightly. “You know, I think I’m just going to head back to Kane’s,” she said.   
“Hold on there, Princess,” said Bellamy. The nickname just about stabbed Clarke in the heart. As it is, she clutched at her chest feeling like it would be better to just rip the damn thing right out of her instead.  
“Thanks for coming to the funeral,” Clarke said to Bellamy. “And for getting me out of there. But I’m going to go back to Kane’s now.” She had to get out of there and fast or else she’d lose it all over again.   
“You’re gonna runaway now?” Bellamy couldn’t hide the bitterness in his voice even if he tried. He had gone through the trouble of going to her after he said he didn’t want to see her, let her cry in his arms, took her to his apartment where his sister was, a sister he told Clarke to stay away from, and now she was just going to leave? But that was just it. Bellamy didn’t see it as ‘going through the trouble.’ And that’s what allowed Bellamy to fight through his anger and frustration. He did all those things because he loved her. Because she was his mate. That wasn’t something he could just turn away from.   
“I’m not running anywhere,” Clarke argued.  
“No? Off to your palace where King Kane can protect you?” Bellamy had to struggle to keep himself in check. He may love her, but he was still angry.   
Clarke’s eyes narrowed through another set of tears that were threatening to burst free and Bellamy feared he hit a chord. A chord that maybe he shouldn’t have hit.   
“Yeah, where he can protect me!” she screamed. “Me. Because Fates know I can’t protect myself. I can’t even protect the people I care about! So, yes, I’m off to the one place where I can be left alone because I’m protected.” Clarke could feel her tears flowing openly. No use in hiding them anymore because everything was coming up to the surface now. She was fucking destroyed at the funeral. And for the last couple days she had been void. But now she was feeling everything all at once, her anger, her hatred. How could the Fates take her dad from her?   
She pushed past Bellamy and headed straight for the door but Bellamy couldn’t let her go. Not now. It took three strides for him to catch up with her and he threw his arms around her from behind, crushing her to his chest.   
“I can protect you, Clarke,” he whispered into her ear. “Let me protect you.” He placed a gentle kiss on her cheek and she felt herself relax for just a moment, but then she fought against his hold, thrashing in his arms.   
“No!” she cried. “I’ll get you killed too!”  
“You won’t, you won’t,” he chanted, tightening his arms around her.   
Clarke continued to struggle against him. Her heart craved his comfort but her mind kept telling her to pull away. She didn’t need his pity or his death on her hands. “I will,” she sobbed.   
Bellamy gripped her chin in his hand and forced her head to the side, making her look him in the eye. “Clarke Elizabeth Griffin, I promise you, I’m not going anywhere. Neither are you, not while I’m around.” He dug his fingers through her hair, holding her in place with tight arms and eager hands.   
She tried to shake her head but she found she couldn’t move it enough to shake it with Bellamy’s hand holding her in place. “Not like this,” she muttered so low Bellamy almost missed it.  
“Not like what?” he asked. He waited but her tears kept coming and she kept trying to shake free. “Please, Clarke. Talk to me. Let me in,” he begged. His lips trailed across her forehead as he pleaded with her.   
“I don’t want what happened to my dad to be the reason I’m back here talking to you,” she finally managed. She had to take deep breathes in between the words to stump some of her cries but she managed it. She raised her head, lips barely touching the underside of Bellamy’s jaw. “I don’t want to be here because you pity me or feel sorry about what happened.”  
Bellamy turned Clarke around in his arms so suddenly that she yelped in the turn. His arms became like a vise around her yet again and his hand was still threading through her hair, forcing her gaze to his.   
“Clarke,” he said, kissing her forehead. “You’re here because I need you. Because you need me. We’re soulmates. We need each other.”  
The truth of it made Clarke’s chest ache but she didn’t fight the pain anymore. She let it loose and fell limp against Bellamy’s chest. He carried her into his bedroom, only sparing a quick glance to Octavia who poked her head back out from her room and let her know that Clarke was okay. Or at least she would be.  
He settled Clarke on the bed, helping her remove her clothes and put her in one of his old college t-shirts. He tried his damn near hardest to not completely ogle Clarke as he helped her shed her clothes. But he stroked the soft skin of her thighs once she had the shirt on and they both sighed together at the contact.   
Bellamy tucked Clarke in on one side of the bed before getting rid of his own clothes and climbing in on the other side. They faced each other on the bed, a few inches of space between them, but then Bellamy wrapped a tentative arm around Clarke’s waist. She took the encouragement and snuggled in closer to his warmth.   
“Bell,” she said against the skin of his neck.   
He fought the shiver but was still sure she felt it. “Yeah?”  
“It was my fault.” Her voice cracked.  
Bellamy wasn’t sure if she was talking about what had happened to her dad or at the pool with Octavia a few days ago. But either way, his heart hurt knowing his princess thought it was all her fault.  
“No it’s not,” he said. “But why don’t you try sleeping for now? We’ll talk about it in the morning.”   
He caressed her cheek and then moved lower, caressing her arm and then lower still until he could draw slow circles on her back. The action was lulling Clarke to sleep, and coupled with the exhaustion she felt from all her crying, Clarke knocked out fast.   
While Bellamy watched Clarke’s breathing even out, he knew in that moment that no matter what else got thrown at them, they would always find a way back to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I think it's really beautiful how this chapter ended up being uploaded on the night of The 100 season finale. Hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. REVIEW.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just pure smut. Enjoy.

Clarke had a pleasantly dreamless night, but she knew that wouldn’t last long. She felt herself stirring awake in Bellamy’s arms and knew they would have to clear all the air between them and soon. He curled his arms tighter around her and his breath stirred the hairs along Clarke’s ear.  
“Good morning, princess,” he whispered.   
Clarke allowed herself a couple more seconds wrapped up in him, clenching her fist around the hair at his neck and burrowing further into his neck, inhaling his scent. Bellamy tried to control his reaction but the shiver escaped him and he was sure Clarke felt it. His arms tried to pull her back for a second but Clarke wouldn’t be brought back in.   
She sat back against the pillows. “The day I was sworn into Kane’s coven was the day Octavia’s file was handed to me,” she said.   
Bellamy sat up then, too. He hadn’t figured Clarke would want to talk first thing in the morning, but there was a hard set to her jaw and a furrow in her brow. She was determined to get this all out.   
Clarke tried not to let his stare get to her. If she noticed it, it would make her cry all over again and that wouldn’t be helpful at all.   
“At first I was told just to keep an eye on her. Then I had orders to awaken her,” Clarke continued.  
“Awaken?” Bellamy questioned.  
“It’s a term my kind uses for witches who don’t know they’re witches. It’s rare, but sometimes witches choose to leave the coven to lead a normal life. They suppress their powers and their children’s powers. Depending on how long they’ve been suppressed, it can take some,” Clarke paused for a moment. “Dangerous events to wake them up.”  
Bellamy gulped. He was well aware of those dangerous events. “You kept saying her power wouldn’t let her die.”   
“It wouldn’t. If there is ever a way that our affinities can keep us alive, they will. Our powers are almost like live entities. They want to live. They want to be used. It’s how they breathe. Without us, they secrete into the earth along with our ashes. They lie dormant.”  
“Even if your coven leader orders you not to?” he asked.  
“Even then. Witches may form covens and bonds and swear fealty, but our powers are their own.” Clarke hesitated. “At least to some regard. My powers are tied to Kane’s. Our powers interact together, like dropping two different colored dyes into water. That’s why me being part of Kane’s coven makes him stronger. But if it ever comes down to it, my powers will always keep me alive, fealty sworn or not, it doesn’t give a damn.”   
“So what does this mean for Octavia?” Bellamy’s voice lowered, like he feared the possible answer.  
“She has to train,” Clarke said immediately. “She needs to get it under control and understand the risks.”  
“Addiction,” Bellamy remembered.   
Clarke nodded. “And right now she’s not sworn to a coven leader, so the addiction will be worse for her.”  
Bellamy stiffened beside her and this time Clarke faced him. She took his hand in hers. “Octavia is strong. She’ll be able to fight it. At least until she can swear to a leader.”  
“I’m assuming Kane wants her to swear to him?” Bellamy bit out. He didn’t like Kane at all. There was always something sketchy about him.   
“I don’t know. Most likely. I’m not in a position to ask questions.” Clarke’s annoyance couldn’t be ignored.   
“How did he know about Octavia?”   
“I don’t know.”  
“And you never asked,” Bellamy said, voice dripping with frustration.   
Clarke scoffed. “I wasn’t allowed to, Bellamy. It’s not like it’s my fault he knew about her.”  
“That’s not what I’m saying, Clarke. Don’t put words in my mouth,” he said, running a hand through his wild hair.   
They were quiet for a few moments, only the occasional sound of a heavy sigh before Clarke moved closer to him, the sheets twisting around her bare legs.   
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” she said. “It frustrates me just as much that I’m kept in the dark. But you have to understand that I don’t have all the answers you want.”   
Bellamy felt the warmth radiating off her skin, but he still couldn’t face her. He watched his hands curl around the sheets instead.   
“I already decided after that day by the pool that if you ever let me back in, I wouldn’t keep anything from you,” Clarke continued. “But then I found my dad.”   
Now Bellamy had to look at her. She wasn’t crying but her eyes glazed over. He swallowed. “Clarke, that won’t happen to me. And even if it does, you can’t tell me your dad would have wanted to be kept in the dark so much. I’m sure he appreciated everything you and your mom shared of your world with him.”   
Clarke nodded, a stray tear falling down her cheek. She wiped it away furiously. “I’ve been asking myself if it really is worth the risk. But, damn it, Bellamy. I love you too much to lose you this way. I’ll tell you everything,” she sobbed.   
Bellamy froze, the air leaving his chest at rapid speed. He struggled to move fast enough. He got a hand on the bare skin of her thigh before pulling her closer.   
“What did you say?” he asked.  
Clarke’s brow furrowed. “I’ll tell you everything?”   
Bellamy couldn’t hold back his smile anymore. It stretched his entire face and Clarke was mesmerized. He shook his head. “No, before that.”  
Clarke stopped short. Oh shit. She hadn’t realized she said that. With shaky hands, she laid them on his chest, the erratic beat of his heart edging her on. “I said I love you.” Her eyes widened and her mind raced to formulate an excuse. The stress, that had to be it. But then she saw the glimmer in his eye, the heart-stopping smile on his face, the sweet way he watched her, and she couldn’t help but smile back. She did love him.   
Bellamy crushed his lips to hers. He pulled her more fully against him leaving her straddling his lap. The silky skin of her thighs was driving him crazy and he couldn’t wait to feel them wrapped around his waist. Hell, he wanted to feel them wrapped around his head too while he got a taste of her.   
Clarke pulled back just a fraction of an inch. “Bell,” she breathed. “We still have a lot to talk about.” But she curled her hands through his hair again, already missing the pressure of his lips.   
“I know, princess. We will talk about everything. But right now,” his voice trailed off as his lips followed a path down the column of her neck. He stopped at her collarbone and took a harsh bite out of it.   
Clarke gasped and arched. She shook her head and pulled back again. “Are you sure this is appropriate right now?” she chuckled.   
Bellamy laughed with her, his head resting against her shoulder. He dropped a kiss to her collarbone. “Probably not. But what I am sure of is that I love you. I know we have a lot to talk about and still more things to figure out about each other, but I will always be sure that I love you, you complicated, stubborn, beautiful woman.”   
And suddenly Clarke was done with talking. She felt Bellamy’s words in every kiss and caress, in every glance and whisper. She felt him harden against her thigh and, keeping her eyes fixed on his, she rocked against him.   
His hand balled up the edge of his t-shirt she wore and he dragged her closer, feeling the press of her breasts against his chest. They rocked together this time. At the sound of her moan, Bellamy tore the shirt off of her. He had to see her bare and open to him. He wasted no time and had her bra off and on the ground in seconds. He took a hardened nipple into his mouth. Clarke arched into his mouth, squeezing her eyes shut as his tongue laved over her nipple. She rocked harder against him but she wanted more friction; she needed more.   
Bellamy wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and turned them over, laying her flat against the sheets and following the path of her hair on his pillow. He smirked when he noticed some of her blonde roots coming in.   
Clarke whimpered underneath him, raising her hips still trying to seek that relief.   
“I know, baby,” he said. “I know.” Bellamy’s hands smoothed down her sides, skimming the curves of her breasts, thumbs tracing over her nipples, and lower until he hooked a finger under the band of her underwear.   
Clarke ran her nails down Bellamy’s back before attacking his mouth again. It was difficult to say they fought for dominance, because while both could be rather dominant, they reveled in the excitement of give and take. They swapped roles back and forth until they became one cohesive unit. Their lips moved as one, trying every so often to spur the other into even wilder actions. They eventually had to pull away for air but their lips didn’t go far. They shared the air between their lips. The fire in their eyes holding them so close to the edge until one of them eventually led them off.   
Bellamy was the first to move. He smoothed his open-mouthed kisses down her neck, her chest, and stopped to suck on her nipples, before moving lower. He circled his tongue around her navel and kissed her abdomen. He looked up and saw Clarke watching him. Good, he thought. He wanted her to see this.   
He peeled back her underwear and when her damp core came into his view, he growled. The sound made Clarke whimper because she was pretty sure she had never heard anything sexier.   
For one fleeting moment, Clarke thought about stopping him. There was still so much she wanted to say and get out, but with his lips so dangerously close to her throbbing cunt, she couldn’t hold the thought for long. Then Clarke entertained the ideas of what it would feel like to have Bellamy’s cock inside her, pulsing, throbbing with a need for release. She wanted it so bad. It wasn’t her first time, not that she would voice that to Bellamy unless he asked. But she seriously hoped he didn’t. If there was anything that would put the brakes on them having sex, it would be that.  
Bellamy noticed the crinkle in Clarke’s brow and he caressed her hip. “Still with me, princess?”   
Clarke blinked several times before swallowing. “Yeah,” she nodded, biting her lip.   
“Good,” he said, kissing just above where she wanted him to touch. “I want you here for this.”   
And then he pressed his tongue against her clit. Clarke arched clear off the bed, a loud moan escaping her. Bellamy couldn’t stave off the groan as he tasted her on his tongue, smelled her arousal. His arms went under her thighs and wrapped around her hips, keeping her in place. He alternated between licking up and down her folds to sucking on her clit. When she started to rub against his face, he moved one hand down to her core.   
He moaned into her clit as he slipped a finger inside her. Bellamy had been there before; he knew what she liked. But damn if Clarke wasn’t more soaked this time around. The ease with which his finger slid inside almost made Bellamy come right then and there. But he continued.   
Clarke’s moans and breathlessness filled the air, but she also heard the sound of Bellamy’s finger moving in and out of her. Fuck, Clarke muttered to herself. She dragged one hand down her neck, toward her breast where she tweaked a nipple and whimpered, then down her stomach toward Bellamy’s curls. She pressed herself more firmly into his face. She didn’t mean to be so forward; It wasn’t like she had meant to shove her pussy in his face, but damn with all his sucking and pumping, she couldn’t help herself. But every time she did it Bellamy would groan and suck harder.   
Clarke’s legs were starting to tremble and Bellamy noticed it right away. He smirked as he pulled his finger out of her and heard her whimper of protest.   
“Shh,” he scolded. He chuckled against her, blowing out air onto her dripping cunt.   
Bellamy slipped his tongue between her folds.   
“Fuck,” Clarke said, her voice bouncing off the walls. She took a fist to her mouth and tried to quiet down but Bellamy loved hearing her. He moved his tongue in and out of her faster. Clarke couldn’t hold back her cries.   
When Bellamy rubbed his fingers on her clit, Clarke exploded. One hand tugged on Bellamy’s curls while the other wrapped itself against the sheets and, by some miracle, Clarke didn’t scream. Her mouth fell open and she held her breath, letting the orgasm crash over her.   
Bellamy didn’t ease up. He devoured her like a man starved. He ate her up, loved the way her taste coated every part of him, the way her walls clenched sporadically around his tongue. He felt her come down on his tongue too, and he slowly moved away from her. He started a new brand of kisses back up her body, stopping to give thanks to her breasts, and caressed her cheek.   
“Good?” he breathed along the underside of her jaw. He kissed her throat as she swallowed.   
“So good,” she chuckled.   
Bellamy kissed her, tongue moving languidly with hers, and there was a slight moment of sluggishness on Clarke’s part. She lay there so sated and content. Then Bellamy pressed his hard erection against her. Bellamy couldn’t help himself.   
Clarke laughed, shaking her head. Then with a move that surprised Bellamy, she pushed him down on the bed, his body prone to her. Maybe there was a small part of Clarke that didn’t want to have sex with him when there was still so much to be said, or maybe it had something to do with her earlier thoughts just before he ate her out; either way, she wasn’t ready just yet. But she had other things in mind. Things she had been wanting to do since he made her come that afternoon in the kitchen. She refused to let her mind go any further than that kitchen counter.   
Bellamy’s chest was already bare for her and she let herself enjoy every inch of that chest of his. Her fingers dug into his pecks, raked down the skin of his abs, and down his arms. Her lips followed the same path. She entertained herself with his neck, sucking so diligently on a particular spot by his ear that seemed to drive him crazy. His shiver coursed through her too.   
“You’re killing me, princess,” Bellamy said through gritted teeth.   
Clarke shook her head, sensing his fight to stay in control. She didn’t want to see Bellamy in control. She wanted to see him lose it.  
She kissed her way down his body, much like he had done to her, and rubbed a hand over his erection. Even through the material of his boxers, Clarke could feel it throbbing. She recalled the taste of her own orgasm when he kissed her and suddenly Clarke desperately wanted to taste Bellamy’s own orgasm on hers.   
She peeled back his boxers, mesmerized by the way his erection sprang free from the confines of his underwear. Clarke was right; he was already throbbing. But she wanted him a little more out of control. She wanted to see his control slip and burst into a wild need. Because Clarke had felt the same way. Hell, she still did.  
Her lips brushed his ear lobe and she groaned. “Fuck, Bell. You’re so big.” Her hand reached down to wrap around his cock. She gave it a slow pump and felt Bellamy shutter beneath her.   
Bellamy reached a hand out to grip Clarke’s hip, squeezing it when she pumped him. His other hand was digging into the sheets and he contemplated just how much pressure he would have to apply before tearing them. He kept trying to remind himself to hold it together. He didn’t want to completely lose it, but damn Clarke was really trying to kill him. He fought against her moves though. Two can play at this game, he thought.  
“I bet you can’t wait to have my big dick buried inside you,” he said. He gave a satisfied smirk when he heard her breath catch. But Clarke wasn’t going to lose that quickly.   
“You’re right,” she breathed. She moved her lips a little lower, sucking on that sweet spot that made Bellamy jerk. “You’re so big I bet you could break me.”   
Bellamy jerked again, causing her hand to move up and down his cock again. Interesting, Clarke thought. She smiled before biting down on his neck, hard.   
“Is that what you want?” she asked, almost taunting him. “You want to fuck me so hard that you break me, Bellamy?”   
Just saying the words made Clarke moan as she said them, and she bit down on her own lip to keep herself in check. She was supposed to be making Bellamy lose control.   
The hand Bellamy had fisted in the sheets moved lightning fast, attaching itself to Clarke’s thigh. He tried to get her to hitch her leg over his so he could tease her with his cock brushing against her cunt, but she wouldn’t budge. Then he tried to bring her lips to his, thinking maybe he could kiss her into submission, but she kissed him everywhere but his lips.   
“Clarke,” he growled. He seemed seconds away from pouncing.   
Clarke’s hand moved faster. She pumped him faster. His breath staggered and he arched his hips into her hand.   
“I want that too,” she said after some time, her voice breathless. “Really, I want anything that leads to you fucking me.”   
Bellamy growled again at her words. He never would have pegged Clarke for a dirty talker, but she was going at it like a champ, and he was soaking up every minute of it.   
“And when we do finally fuck, I know it will be nothing less than mind-blowing. But I think I know something you’ll enjoy just as much,” Clarke said.  
She moved back down and settled herself between his thighs.   
“Fucking hell, Clarke,” Bellamy said, running a quick hand through his hair. He had pictured Clarke like this several times. He even pictured her doing what she was about to do in various different places in his apartment.   
He is so close, Clarke told herself. And he was. He was teetering on the edge of control and wildness, and Clarke couldn’t wait to push him over. She gave a tentative lick at the tip of his cock. The pre-cum coated her tongue and she gave another lick from the base to the tip. But Clarke was not one to do things tentatively. She gave one last look at Bellamy, their heated gazes locking, and then she took him entirely into her mouth. Clarke hollowed out her cheeks and took more of him in, but even then, there was just so much of him. She brought a hand to help stroke the flesh of what she couldn’t take in, but Clarke swore she would get to a point where she could get all of him in her mouth.   
Bellamy dug the heel of his feet into the mattress, rising off, but tried to hold back still. He didn’t want to hurt her. But the way Clarke was watching him, it was like she was challenging him. She sucked her way back to the tip of his cock, sucking slightly harder as she neared the tip.   
Then her tongue slid into the slit at the top of his dick.   
Bellamy groaned so loud he had a feeling even his neighbors downstairs could hear him. His hips came clean off the bed and he felt the tight warmth of Clarke’s mouth taking him in even farther. He squeezed his eyes shut to try and save some semblance of control, but once the tip of his dick touched the back of Clarke’s throat, and he heard the slight gag from her, he lost it. His hand wove into Clarke’s and he continued thrusting his hips, driving his cock into her mouth over and over again. Each time, he touched the back of her throat, and each time, Clarke gave a little gag. They met in their gazes again and Clarke reassured him that she was fine, that she was enjoying it as much as he was. She loved seeing him lose control, seeing him turn wild with her.   
That trusting gaze, the caresses to his thighs and balls that she gave him, it pushed him off the edge. He touched the back of her throat and Clarke sucked harder, hallowing her cheeks again, and Bellamy came with a roar. Clarke swallowed everything he gave her and even let him control the movement of her head as he came back down.   
It wasn’t until his hand disentangled itself from her hair and he started caressing her cheek that she pulled away from his cock. She slid it out of her mouth and Bellamy pulled her back up, immediately smothering her mouth with kisses. Their tastes intermingled and made Clarke sigh.   
They settled against each other, Clarke planting a hand on Bellamy’s chest, feeling his heartbeat struggle to slow down, and Bellamy ‘s wrapped around Clarke, trailing patterns down her arm.   
“I have no idea what you just did to me, Clarke Griffin,” Bellamy chuckled.  
“I made you lose control,” she answered triumphantly.   
“So you like when I lost control?”  
“I like a wild Bellamy. The one place you shouldn’t have to remain in control is in the bedroom.”  
He laughed. “I’ll remember that.” He kissed her. “But my lack of control may have just alerted Octavia to what has occurred in ‘the bedroom,’” he said.   
Clarke gasped and covered her face into Bellamy’s chest. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I forgot she was here.”  
“I believe it. Even I forgot,” he said, kissing her forehead.   
Clarke sighed. “I guess we should get up and go out there then. I have to apologize to her.”   
“For almost killing her or sucking her brother’s dick while she was down the hall?”   
Bellamy laughed at the red that coated Clarke’s pale cheeks.   
“You suck, Bellamy.”  
“No, apparently you do.”  
Clarke stuck her tongue out at him and he attacked her with more kisses down her neck while tickling her sides. When they finally settled down again, Clarke yawned into Bellamy’s neck.   
He chuckled. “Maybe what we need is more sleep. Then we’ll face the music that is Octavia.”   
Clarke was already dosing off. “Fine. And I want pancakes when I wake up,” she said, snuggling further into Bellamy’s body.   
“Whatever you want, princess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed that! please REVIEW.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super big shout out to Linctavia here on Ao3. You are always reminding me to update and telling me how much you love the story. You may not know it, but it is a HUGE help. Thanks so much! XOXO

“Stop trying to force it,” commanded Lincoln. He moved behind Octavia, watching her crinkle her brows as she tried to move the water in the cup in front of her.  
“I’m not forcing it,” Octavia retorted. She huffed in her stance before straightening her shoulders and bracing her hands outward. Octavia had no idea what the hell she was doing, and as much as she liked Lincoln and being near him, he wasn’t providing much help besides barking commands at her.  
“Relax your shoulders,” he said.  
Octavia groaned before turning around to face him. “Is that really all you’re going to say? Relax my shoulders?” She planted her hands on her hips. “How about providing some useful advice for once?”  
Lincoln blinked. He was really hoping Octavia wouldn’t notice that he had no idea what the hell he was doing. “I’m trying, Octavia,” Lincoln said, holding back his own bout of remorse. He still believed that it should be Clarke helping Octavia in all this. But even after Clarke and Octavia talked, apologized and worked things through, Clarke still refused to be Octavia’s mentor.  
But that didn’t mean Clarke wasn’t keeping a watchful eye. Clarke shook her head before hiding back behind the shadows in the hallway. Lincoln and Octavia had been at it for almost three hours and Octavia only managed to burst the sink pipes. Clarke had to bite her tongue on a few instances because she knew what Octavia was doing wrong.  
The truth of the matter was Clarke didn’t trust her powers around Octavia. Using them in the way she did almost cost her a friend, and her soulmate. It was easy to understand why Clarke was hesitant to go down that road again. Even though she and Octavia talked things out, there was still something that went unsaid between the two.  
Bellamy insisted that Clarke should be the one to mentor her. He said this could be the way Clarke proved, not only to him and Octavia, but also to herself, that she can trust herself around the people she cares about – that it’s possible to be herself around them, without them getting harmed.  
Octavia shifted. “I know,” she sighed. “Let’s go again.”  
Clarke smiled. She admired Octavia’s tenacity. She didn’t give up easily. That would serve her well in her training.  
They kept at it for another hour, but Octavia still couldn’t get the water to move. She was getting frustrated. Her brows were drawn together in concentration and her jaw made a ticking noise as she gritted her teeth. Her shoulders went rigid and her outstretched hands strained to stay up.  
Clarke’s heart broke a little as she watched this girl struggle. Octavia just wasn’t getting it. Clarke wasn’t going to step in. But then she saw Octavia’s eyes gloss over. Just before a tear could fall, Octavia let go of her stance and rubbed at her eyes.  
“I don’t think I can do this,” she whispered.  
Clarke couldn’t take it anymore. She emerged from the shadows. “You’re thinking too much,” she said.  
Octavia stilled at Clarke’s appearance. “Thinking too much?”  
Clarke didn’t miss her harsh tone. Yup, definitely some unsaid things left to work through, Clarke thought. “Our powers should come effortlessly to us.”  
“Well, it’s not.” Octavia fanned her hair out around her shoulders and prepared to talk with Lincoln again.  
It was watching the way Octavia tuned Clarke out and let herself be drawn to Lincoln, how Lincoln was ready to take in anything Octavia said, that struck something in Clarke. Their friendship, Octavia’s and Lincoln’s, it formed from the fact they’re part of the same world now. But that’s not how it started for Octavia and Clarke. Clarke had a mission. Octavia was that mission.  
It was time to start showing Octavia that she was not a mission for Clarke, not anymore.  
“It’s not a job,” Clarke said suddenly.  
Octavia moved slowly, facing Clarke again.  
Lincoln eyed the two and figured he should step back for a few and let them hash things out again.  
“What do you mean?” asked Octavia.  
“What we have. Our friendship. It’s not a job; it’s not a mission. Just like our power is not a job.” Clarke stepped closer to Octavia and watched the way Octavia’s eyes glossed over again. “That’s what I should have said when I apologized to you. I’m sorry I made you a job. That was the last thing I needed to do. But that’s what made what I did so hard. Because you’re not a job to me; you’re my friend.”  
Octavia blinked several times, a timid smile forming at the corners of her mouth. “So, what’s this about me thinking too much?”  
Clarke chuckled. “Our powers are part of us. Don’t think of Aquaria as a separate entity. It is you.” Clarke placed her hands on Octavia’s shoulders and turned her toward the glass of water again. “When you look at the water, your power will start to tingle. Do you feel it?”  
Octavia waited a moment before shaking her head. “How do I feel it?”  
“Block out everything. Block out all your thoughts and worries, just be. Be here in this moment. Look at the water and let your body feel it. It’s calling to you already, Octavia. Just let yourself feel it.” Clarke’s voice lowered to a whisper. “Hone in on the sound of the water.”  
“But it’s not moving,” Octavia said hesitantly.  
“To everyone else, the water isn’t moving. But we, as Aquaria users, we can hear the molecules moving. We can hear the water’s energy. We just have to listen.”  
Lincoln came back into the room but at seeing Clarke standing behind Octavia, hands on her shoulders, he stopped. When the door behind him opened, he quickly dragged Bellamy in and placed a finger over his lips to quiet him.  
“I,” Octavia started, her excitement making her shuffle in her spot. “I can hear it!”  
“Good,” Clarke said. She moved back a few steps. “Now let that sound wash over you. Keep letting your body feel its call.”  
Octavia laughed. “I’m tingling!”  
Clarke smiled. “You’re responding to its call. Now, move the water.”  
Octavia went rigid again. “But-”  
Clarke stepped forward again. “Thinking too much,” Clarke commented. “When you start to feel that tingle, it means your body is ready to answer the call. Your Aquaria is ready to be one with its mate. Allow yourself to need the water, Octavia.”  
Clarke registered the fear in Octavia’s eyes. There was something else going on behind those intense eyes that Clarke didn’t know about, but she’d have to ask about that later. It was a fear that Clarke knew all too well. Fear is universal, and although Clarke may not know why the fear was there in Octavia’s eyes, Clarke knew all too well how strong that fear could be in keeping us from fulfilling our potential.  
“I promise you,” Clarke started. “The power will not overtake you, Octavia. Accepting Aquaria allows you to be free, and I won’t let it do anything but that.” Clarke’s words were intense but they hit their mark. Octavia relaxed again and nodded. She had to trust Clarke. But Octavia also had to trust herself.  
This time, Octavia didn’t bother with squaring her shoulders or reaching her hands forward like she thought she had to. She simply let go. She allowed the call and energy to hum along her body, under her skin, through her fingertips, and outward. The water sloshed violently in the glass for a few seconds and everyone watched with baited breath.  
Everyone seemed too afraid to move or breathe. Lincoln and Bellamy tried to stretch forward to see as clearly as Clarke and Octavia could, but still too frightened of ruining the atmosphere of the room.  
Then the glass tipped over and the water spilled onto the counter and floor.  
The room relaxed.  
“Excellent,” laughed Clarke.  
“What? Excellent? I knocked the glass over,” said Octavia, head low.  
“But you moved the water. And wasn’t that the whole point of today’s exercise?” Clarke asked. Her cheeky grin was infectious as it made its way to Octavia and then both men standing on the other side of the kitchen.  
“Keep practicing,” Clarke said. “Once you’ve mastered that, we’ll talk about moving your training sessions to the manor.”  
“Kane’s manor?” said Bellamy, finally chiming in.  
“I know it may not be the ideal place, but it’s the only place that has the equipment we’ll need to further her training,” said Clarke.  
Bellamy’s lips fell into a hard line.  
“I’ll take care of her there, Bell. I promise.” Clarke said it vehemently. She would not betray his trust again, and Bellamy knew that.  
“Will Lincoln be there too?” asked Octavia. “He’s still my mentor, too.”  
And just like that, Clarke realized she had just taken up the role of mentor. Which meant, according to Octavia, she now had two mentors.  
“He won’t be allowed inside the manor,” said Clarke, almost tentatively. It was always a sore subject because it brought up too much of Lincoln’s dark past. A past Clarke was also a part of.  
“Long story,” said Lincoln. “Maybe I’ll explain it to you sometime,” he added with a wink.  
Clarke gave an unflattering chortle when she saw Bellamy’s brows rise at Lincoln’s comment.  
“Well I’m starving. How about we go out to Tony’s for a burger?” suggested Clarke.  
“God, yes!” exclaimed Octavia.  
Clarke couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her as she watched Octavia skip out the door and practically run down the stairs. With Bellamy’s arm around her waist, and Lincoln trailing behind Octavia, Clarke was starting to feel like she had found a place to be herself.  
But that also meant more people put in harms way. 

The burger joint wasn’t particularly packed that night. Clarke always remembered the place to be bustling with people. She remembered having to wait in line almost two hours when Wells used to come visit her. But that night, they had their food steaming and ready in less than ten minutes.  
There was a couple basically making out in a booth at the far end of the restaurant, and a few rowdy kids ordering at the counter, but no one else. Clarke shook her head and focused her attention back to the conversation surrounding her.  
“So do I get to be part of a coven now?” asked Octavia.  
Bellamy stiffened beside Clarke and Clarke tried to stave off her annoyance. She understood Bellamy’s reluctance to join Kane’s coven, but not all covens were as bad as Clarke painted them out to be.  
“Eventually,” Clarke answered, feeling it was the safest answer.  
“Is there any way she can go on without one?” asked Bellamy.  
“If she doesn’t want to get addicted, then no,” said Clarke.  
“Addicted?” said Octavia, her eyes darting toward Lincoln.  
Clarke found it a bit odd that Octavia turned to Lincoln in a lot of these situations. Like he would help her make sense of all the nonsense around her.  
And right on que, Lincoln started explaining. “Our powers come at a price,” he said. “If we use too much of it, and we’re not sworn to a coven leader to help relieve some of that need to use, it will consume us and we get addicted. It eventually kills us.”  
Octavia visibly shivered across the table but Clarke reached a hand out and settled it on top of Octavia’s. “But that’s not going to happen to you. You’ll be sworn and you’ll fight it off. You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for.”  
“Clarke’s right,” said Bellamy, surprising Clarke. “You’ll swear to a coven leader that’s right for you. One that can protect you and has your best interest in mind.”  
Clarke was already nodding before all sets of eyes were settled on her. She paused. “Wait a minute,” she said.  
“Clarke,” Lincoln stepped in. “I think you should consider this.”  
“Consider what?” she said, rounding on him. “Did you tell them?” Her voice was rising but she didn’t care. There weren’t a lot of people in the restaurant to care about her loud voice anyway.  
“I may have said something about you being qualified to be a coven leader,” Lincoln said, locking his jaw.  
“You had no right,” Clarke said, pointing at him.  
“Clarke, why won’t you consider it?” asked Bellamy. He wasn’t scolding her or even upset; he was genuinely curious. She had the qualifications and after seeing her with his sister, and the way she helped Octavia control her power, Clarke would make a great coven leader. He believed that entirely.  
“Because that’s not what I want!” she said. “I don’t want that role. I didn’t ask for it and I don’t want it, okay?” Clarke sighed. “You’re right that we’ll find Octavia a leader to swear to that will look out for her, but it won’t be me.”  
“Guys, stop,” said Octavia. “If Clarke doesn’t want to, then she doesn’t have to.” Octavia was the one to reach across the table then. “Clarke is already tied to a leader she doesn’t believe in, forced to do things she doesn’t want to. Don’t make her feel like that with this.”  
Clarke stared at Octavia. It was surprising to Clarke that Octavia had been able to read her so openly like that. It had to be the mentor bond forming between them. But Clarke had a feeling it also came from experience. Octavia knew what it felt like to be seen as a job, to have to do things because it was expected of you. She wouldn’t wish that on Clarke anymore than it already was placed on her.  
“But what do they mean you’re qualified?” Octavia asked.  
Clarke figured she owed Octavia an explanation. “Our kind spends our entire life training and learning new things about our abilities. I started a little younger than most.” Clarke paused to smile at a memory. “My mom didn’t want me to start training so young. It’s a rigorous process. But I couldn’t sit still. Neither could my powers. My dad noticed it, too, and he convinced my mom to let me start training at five years old.”  
“Five?” Octavia blanched.  
Clarke nodded. “My trainers noticed immediately that my powers were strong, stronger than most. They never could find a definite reason to explain it. They just said my eagerness fueled my power. But they always warned me that eagerness could turn on me.”  
“How?” asked Octavia.  
Everyone was immersed in Clarke’s retelling. Bellamy had scooted closer and Octavia was practically on top of the table trying to catch every word. Lincoln, although he had heard the story a couple times before, still found it just as enthralling as the first time. He told her it was her “origin” story. Clarke would always shake her head and brush him off. But Lincoln never gave up that sentiment.  
“My powers are stronger which means they demand to be used more often. But using fuels the addiction. I was more susceptible to that growing up. I couldn’t go more than ten feet without needing to use my ability.”  
“So you swore?” said Octavia.  
Clarke hesitated, watching the salt and peppershakers in front of her, trying not to let her mind go to the darker places it usually dwelled. “I swore,” she said. Her tone was short and clipped. She hoped that would be the end of that, but of course the Blakes couldn’t leave that alone.  
“How old were you when you swore?” asked Octavia.  
Bellamy quickly chimed in with his own question. “Who did you swear to?”  
Clarke shook her head and laughed humorlessly. “Guys,” she groaned. “Can’t we just go out and have burgers like any normal group of friends without talking about depressing shit?”  
Lincoln’s laugh burst from his lips. He couldn’t help it.  
Octavia smiled and opened her mouth to say something, but suddenly Clarke’s ears started to ring. The hairs on her skin stood. A shiver worked its way down her spine. Something was off.  
She turned her head to the couple in the booth behind them. They were whispering to each other, smiling. Clarke eyed the entrance. The rowdy kids had just left. But the door opened again. The bell attached to it jingled.  
A man dressed in a long trench coat sat two booths down from them. He picked up the peppershaker and dumped its contents on the table. Huh, odd, thought Clarke.  
Clarke eyed his chipped nails. The skin around his palm was callused and marred with burn marks. His black hair fell forward as he leaned on the table and Clarke watched the wrinkled skin around his lips pull taunt as he smirked.  
Lincoln’s hands started to shake and he gritted his teeth. He was hungry for a soul. He knew that. But there was something else making him shake. He turned to call Clarke’s attention to it, but then she was getting up. And everything happened so fast.  
“Get down!” Clarke yelled.  
The man in the coat jumped up and Clarke smelled the fire before it even left his hands.  
The air around Clarke hummed with energy. She dragged her hands together and then splayed them out in front of her. A water barrier formed between the man and them. The fire hit the water barrier only to dissolve with a hiss. Then Clarke surged forward. She used the water barrier and her momentum to throw a thrashing tide of water straight at the man.  
“No!” Lincoln roared.  
Clarke turned around to find the couple that had been making out behind them running straight towards Octavia and Bellamy. The woman reached Bellamy first and Clarke was there in the blink of an eye, yanking the woman back and pressing down on her chest. The bare skin on the woman’s chest began to sizzle as Clarke applied more pressure. Clarke reared back and punched the woman in the face. The force of Clarke’s power surging through her, it knocked the woman out cold.  
Lincoln wasn’t faring as well as Clarke though. The man who had been aiming for Octavia now had Lincoln in a choke hold and his eyes had gone white. The man was a Soul Seeker.  
The man opened his mouth over Lincoln’s and even though all Clarke had to do was jump over the table and yank the man away, it was too late. Lincoln’s eyes glazed over and Clarke knew he was lost.  
“Lincoln!” she screamed. Clarke tried to reach him but a fireball hit Clarke square in the gut and she went down. Bellamy was there in a heartbeat trying to get Clarke up, but her skin had already started to blister and puss. Moving her made Clarke cry out. She had to get up though.  
Lincoln’s skin paled and he turned his white gaze on Octavia.  
“Don’t do it, Lincoln. Fight it!” yelled Clarke.  
Bellamy reached behind his belt buckle and pulled his gun out. “Step away from her, Lincoln,” he said, gun aimed at Lincoln.  
Clarke was shaking her head. “No, Bell, please. I can talk him down,” she pleaded.  
“Clarke,” said Bellamy. “If he touches my sister, I’m shooting him.” His words were final and Clarke couldn’t find it in herself to argue with Bellamy. Or even blame him.  
Lincoln was practically feral.  
Clarke groaned through the pain and got to her feet. From the glass of water on her table, she raised it up from its cup and solidified it in the air. The ice shard flew past Lincoln, grazing his right leg and taking him down, straight through the Soul Seeker’s chest, and found its home in the abdomen of the Fire user two booths down.  
The Soul Seeker twitched before stilling. The Fire user moaned loudly from the floor, coating the linoleum with his blood. He was in too much pain to fight Clarke, and she let out a breath.  
With the threats neutralized, she approached Lincoln. He was already getting back up on his feet and trying to reach for Octavia again. But his leg bled out a little more with each step he took.  
Octavia looked torn between wanting to help Lincoln and wanting to run from him. Her eyes watered as she backed up further in the booth.  
“Lincoln!” said Clarke.  
He turned to her at the sound of his name and barred his teeth at her. His lips were chapped and she already missed the warmth in his brown eyes. Clarke opened her palms out. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she said. “We are not your enemy.”  
Lincoln growled.  
Bellamy’s hand twitched on his gun.  
“Will you put that damn gun down, please?” Clarke begged, quickly turning to Bellamy.  
“Not while he’s got his teeth set on you and Octavia,” Bellamy said, not even flinching in his aim.  
Lincoln took advantage of Clarke’s turned head and he threw himself at her. Clarke’s back hit the counter behind her with a crunch as the counter broke under both hers and Lincoln’s strength. An indent of her body formed on the counter as Lincoln pressed her further into it. Lincoln’s hands enclosed themselves around Clarke’s throat.  
“Stop,” Clarke gasped.  
But her plea wasn’t aimed at Lincoln. It was aimed at Bellamy who had the gun trained to Lincoln’s head.  
“Clarke,” said Bellamy over Lincoln’s snarling. He didn’t want to shoot Lincoln, but he wouldn’t hesitate if it meant saving Clarke’s life.  
Clarke tried not to waste another second because she knew Bellamy wouldn’t hold off for long. And if he saw Lincoln taking any bit of Clarke’s soul, he’d shoot. But she cried out anyway as Lincoln tightened his hold and inched closer to her lips. She gripped his forearms and pushed with all her might. With a scream of force, Clarke pulled Lincoln back just enough to breathe again. But in the small, brief moment of relief, Lincoln shot forward and attached himself to her lips. They lacked the warmth Lincoln usually carried with him, but they tore straight into her soul.  
Just as quick as they had landed on her, his lips released her. It was only then that Clarke registered that Bellamy had shot Lincoln. The smoke ebbed out of the gun and Bellamy’s stoic eyes told Clarke he had no choice.  
She looked down and the sight of blood made her woozy. But she figured that had more to do with the fragility of her soul at the moment. It felt detached from her body. Not like that night on the pier with Lincoln. This felt more like her soul was confused and didn’t know what the hell had just disturbed it, or how to put itself back together again without a little guidance.  
A loud groan forced Clarke to refocus. The Fire Starter tried to crawl away with the ice chard still planted in his body.  
Clarke shook her head. “Don’t let him leave,” she whispered because it was all she could manage.  
Just as she stepped forward to stop him, she her knees crumbled and she fell to the floor. Clarke saw Lincoln’s hand outstretched next to her and followed the outline of his motionless body.  
She whimpered just before passing out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! But I'm writing more and getting this story finished! Hope you will all stick around. Please keep the reviews coming! It helps me know that there are people who want to see this continue & your predictions. Hehe, so I can keep surprising you guys ;) 
> 
> THANKS FOR READING!


	14. Chapter 14

Clarke’s head was swimming. It felt like deja vu for her to be lying down, feeling like shit after something went horribly wrong. For as powerful as Clarke was, she didn’t like making a habit of passing out during important, life threatening moments. She sat up with a start.   
“Whoa, take it easy,” Bellamy said coming forward. He placed a hand on her cheek.   
“I’m fine,” said Clarke. She threw her legs off Bellamy’s bed.  
“Clarke, wait,” he said. “Can you just relax for a second?”  
“I can’t!” she said, whirling on him, her hair fanning out wildly around her.   
Bellamy frowned at her expression. She was on edge that much he knew. She was worried about Lincoln and the truth was he had nothing to offer in regards to Lincoln. He didn’t know if the Soul Seeker was okay or not.   
“I need to go find Lincoln,” she said. She jammed her feet into her shoes and reached for her jacket at the foot of Bellamy’s bed.  
“Where do you think you’ll find him?” he asked as she reached his door.  
“I don’t know, Bell, but I have to try,” Clarke snapped.   
There was a beat, a brief moment of silence that passed between them.   
Bellamy relented, much to Clarke’s surprise. He sighed and nodded, breaking eye contact with her. It wasn’t until he got up from his bed and moved the first aid kit sitting on the nightstand and the glass of full water beside it that Clarke closed her eyes.   
Bellamy had taken care of her, made sure she was okay, and there she was just running out the door. She shook her head and cursed herself for being so selfish.   
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t take my frustration out on you. It’s just, he’s like my brother, Bell.” Clarke’s watery gaze settled on Bellamy. “I can’t lose him, too.”   
Bellamy reached out and cupped her cheeks. “You won’t lose him. You hear me? We’re going to find him.”  
Clarke nodded.  
“But what good does it do Lincoln to go searching for him if you’re not rested and fully charged?”   
Bellamy had a point and Clarke couldn’t ignore it. Lincoln was in a fragile state and there was no way he’d be hiding anywhere Clarke would know to find him. Yet, she knew he was hungry. A frenzied Lincoln was not going to be good for any human to encounter. He was a loose canon and if Clarke didn’t find him soon, there was no telling how many innocent lives could be taken.   
“You’ve been in and out of consciousness for about three hours now. You’re not in any condition to go looking for him,” said Bellamy.   
Clarke wobbled on her feet even as Bellamy said that. She walked tentatively back to the bed and tucked herself under the covers. She patted the space beside her. “Help me recharge?”   
Bellamy laughed despite himself and followed her under the covers. His arms wrapped tightly around Clarke’s waist and she snuggled in further into his warmth.  
“Get some sleep,” he said into the wild mess of her hair.  
It wasn’t even ten minutes later that Bellamy smirked at the sound of Clarke’s soft snores as she slept in his arms.  
Clarke wasn’t sure if it had been minutes or hours later, but she was trying to convince herself it was all a dream. The figure hovering over her attached to Bellamy, hand wrapped around his throat and lips closing on his, Clarke tried to tell herself it wasn’t real. If she just closed her eyes again and counted to three, it would all go away. But the white energy that escaped Bellamy’s lips and slithered into Lincoln’s, that was all too real. When Bellamy groaned out in pain, Clarke couldn’t just lie there anymore.   
Her moves seemed to unfold simultaneously. She jumped up from the bed and gripped Lincoln’s arms at the same time that she shoved him back, sending them both flying into the bedroom door. It went crashing off its hinges and powering down the hallway. They didn’t stop until they hit the next wall.  
“Lincoln, stop this!” Clarke screamed.   
He could only roar back in response, fighting against Clarke’s hold. But Bellamy had been right about her needing to recharge. Her energy was purring along skin, her Aquaria feeling brighter and stronger than it had in weeks.   
Clarke latched on to the Aquaria floating in the air, solidifying it. She wrapped two ice chards around Lincoln’s arms and prayed they kept him trapped there long enough for her to come up with a plan. But a cracked out Lincoln was a Lincoln too strong and wild for her to handle, especially when she was trying not to harm him.   
She only had a few seconds before the ice broke under Lincoln’s efforts. Before Clarke could block the move, Lincoln landed a punch on her jaw that sent her falling back. The nearby end table crashed under Clarke’s back and the flower vase went with it. Water coated the floor around her. Swirling her hands, the water rose with her and Clarke let the water hover between her hands.   
Lincoln was charging her, intent on breaking her hands if he had to in order to stop her from using her power.   
Clarke’s ears started to ring as the water between her palms began to vibrate with pent up energy. Just a few more seconds, she told herself. But she didn’t have seconds. It was now or have Lincoln seriously injure her.   
“Clarke! Lincoln!” came Octavia’s yell.   
It was enough to stop Lincoln for a few seconds.   
A few seconds that Clarke needed. Once fully charged, the water between Clarke’s hands started to glow. With a guttural yell, she shoved all her strength into it and pushed the waterball of energy straight at Lincoln.   
It slammed into Lincoln’s chest with a loud boom and forced him to his knees. He trembled with the force of Clarke’s powers and then he fell limp on the ground.   
“Oh my god!” Octavia yelled. “Is he dead?”   
“No, of course not,” Clarke huffed. But Clarke had to check on Bellamy before she did anything else.   
He was already shuffling to his feet when Clarke ran back into the room.   
“You okay?” she asked.  
“Awesome,” he bit out, cringing as he ran a hand through his hair. “You?”   
Clarke shrugged. “Could be better.” There was a light tilt to her voice that made Bellamy smirk and shake his head.   
This girl, he thought to himself. But then his eyes narrowed on her face. “Wait,” he said, reaching out to touch her jaw. “What the hell.”   
Clarke’s eyes widened and she flinched back when he touched her jaw.   
“I’m going to kill him,” Bellamy bit out.  
“No you’re not. But I do plan to punch him right back when he wakes up,” Clarke teased.   
As if on cue, Octavia’s voice reached them from the hallway. “Uh, Clarke? He’s moving!”   
Bellamy and Clarke both cursed before running out to the hall.   
Lincoln groaned from the floor and grasped his head. He whispered something under his breath but Clarke couldn’t hear it.   
She crouched before Lincoln.   
“Careful,” Bellamy said to her.   
Clarke nodded, refusing to take her eyes off Lincoln. “Linc? You with me?”   
As Clarke got closer to him, she startled to hear the words he was muttering.   
“Please, please,” Lincoln kept repeating.   
“What do you need, Lincoln?” Clarke whispered.   
“Please,” he said louder. “Please, kill me.” He finally looked up into Clarke’s eyes and she swallowed against the fear the struck her. His eyes, a fathomless white, void of the warm Lincoln she knew, were shaking her to her core. His brows furrowed and lowered. His lips trembled with his pleas, and for once Clarke didn’t need the warmth in Lincoln’s eyes to know how he felt. He wanted to be set free.   
Clarke knew all too well about wanting to be set free. She could never really find a way to set herself free. But as she continued to watch Lincoln struggle, watch someone she had come to consider a brother suffering from an attack meant for her, it made Clarke struggle to come up with a way to set him free.   
“Clarke, you can’t kill him!” said Octavia. “There has to be another way.”  
Hearing her voice reminded Clarke of something. “The gemstone,” she whispered. “Octavia, get me the gemstone!”   
“My gemstone? Why?”  
“Octavia, now! Please!”  
Although Octavia was confused, she did what was asked and it wasn’t until she placed the gemstone in Clarke’s hand that Octavia realized it was no ordinary stone.   
The stone started to glow in Clarke’s hand, lighting the room in a bright iridescent blue. She placed it on Lincoln’s chest.   
Lincoln groaned as it touched him and when the white in his eyes started to dim, Clarke started to think it was working. She had heard of an amplifier being able to drain out someone’s ability for a short time and hoped it would work on Lincoln.   
But then the stone started to sizzle and Clarke frowned. “What?”  
Lincoln yelled against the stone, the material of his shirt melting away.   
Then Clarke’s hand started to burn too. “Shit!” she yelled, throwing the stone aside.   
“What was that?” Octavia yelled.  
“I have no idea,” Clarke answered. “It was like Lincoln’s body was rejecting the absorption. The stone was refusing us,” Clarke said, dumbfounded.   
“Please,” Lincoln continued to moan. “I can’t hold it back any longer. Please. Kill me!”   
“Clarke, I’m not saying murder is an option here but you better do something fast before I get my gun,” said Bellamy, voice on edge.  
Clarke grasped Lincoln’s face in her hands. “Linc, listen to me. You can fight this. I know you can. We’ve fought worse than this, remember?”  
“But it hurts,” he sobbed. “I can’t fight it.”  
“Yes you can!” she yelled back. Her own tears fell down her cheeks. “You and me, Linc. It has always been you and me. Don’t leave me now!”   
Lincoln shook his head, his weight beginning to sink to the floor. He was giving up and it seemed he wasn’t really listening to anything Clarke was saying.  
Clarke steeled herself and forced his gaze to meet hers again. “Family means more than blood.”  
Lincoln couldn’t look away. Her eyes, so blue and bright, they were glowing and keeping him in the light. “Family,” he whispered back.   
Even with that, Clarke could see the white coming back to Lincoln’s eyes. He was fading again. Clarke heard Bellamy take off up the hall and she knew it was to get his gun. Was that it? She asked herself. Had she lost Lincoln?   
As she watched him twitch and tremble before her, trying to fight off the addiction, fight off his hunger, Clarke suddenly knew what would set him free.   
But setting him free meant losing her own freedom. At least what little freedom she did have left.  
“Swear to me,” she whispered. At first, she couldn’t believe she actually said the words. But when Lincoln stopped moving and brought his gaze to hers, widened and shocked, she knew she had said them.   
A fierceness took over her. This was how she would protect him, how she would save him. And that mattered more to her than all her freedom in the world.  
“Swear to me, Lincoln,” she said again, more forcefully.   
Octavia audibly gasped behind them. “Bell! You need to get back here right now,” Octavia called.   
But Clarke was so focused on Lincoln that she heard none of it.  
“Clarke,” Lincoln said as if talking pained him. “I can’t do that. That’s not what you want.”  
“That doesn’t matter, Linc. I want you safe. I want you protected. Swear to me and I can give that to you.” She was talking faster for fear that in the midst of this, Lincoln would go on a soul-sucking rampage.  
“No,” he said, shaking his head vigorously. “I won’t do that to you.”  
“So you’d rather kill everyone in this apartment complex? Me and Bell? Octavia?”   
Lincoln flinched at that. “Kill me and that won’t happen.”  
“I’m not killing you, Lincoln. You know that,” Clarke said.   
Lincoln sagged against Clarke’s folded legs, his breath warming the cool wood of the floor.   
“Swear to me,” Clarke whispered again. “Please, Lincoln. I can set you free. Just swear to me,” she begged, a strangled sob escaping before she could stop it.   
“Clarke?” Bellamy questioned, trying to inch forward.   
But the second Lincoln got the words out, an electrified energy field had engulfed them.  
“I bind myself to thee, my powers and allegiance are yours. So that my will can become your own, and so my Soul Seeker can help encourage your goal, I swear to thee. I swear to you, Clarke. My sister. My family. I swear to thee,” Lincoln said, his voice cracking. A few tears had slipped down his face.   
Warmth spread throughout Clarke, starting in her toes and running at warp speed to reach her heart. Each word out of Lincoln’s mouth was like lighting a new candle inside her body. It was all verging on becoming a wildfire. She tasted the beginnings of a Soul Seeker’s power on her tongue and her own power flourished at the addition of a new ally.   
It was harder for Clarke to accept the words because it meant giving up a piece of herself in order to accept a piece of Lincoln she had never had before. But she managed to get the words out.   
“From the promise land, to the ears of the Fates,” she whispered. It became so much of a struggle to talk the rehearsed words of swearing fealty that Clarke had to swallow and add her own variation. “For us, and us alone, I will set you free with this fealty sworn, Lincoln. I swear that to you.”  
The energy field surrounding them began to hum.  
Octavia could see the field surrounding Lincoln and Clarke and she was enticed by it enough to try and enter the field. It zapped her fingers the second she moved.  
Lincoln rose to his knees, clasping Clarke’s hands in his. “To the ears of the Fates.”   
The field around them started to move in rapid circles, whipping Clarke’s hair around her face and scattering the broken fragments of wood and glass near them. The energy field imploded and came crashing straight into Clarke’s chest with a loud boom that forced Clarke to stumble back. Her hands reached out behind her to steady herself and her eyes shone with an intense blue. Even more intense than Bellamy had ever seen, in dream or in reality.   
This was different, he realized. She wasn’t just an Aquaria user anymore.   
She was a coven leader.  
Clarke palmed her chest where the energy field had imploded into and felt her heart skip a beat. Although she felt physically fine, something felt different inside her. The ties that held her to Kane were no longer weighing her down. The ties were broken, and they were broken the right way, she told herself. No one would have to die for her decision. Not this one, she told herself.   
But she couldn’t get her heart to relax, or her eyes to chill in their brightness. Everything felt new and intense. Every sensation and thought was amplified. Then Clarke realized she would never need an amplifier stone.   
She was her own amplifier.  
“Clarke?” Lincoln said, tentatively. His eyes had returned to their usual warm brown. “Are you okay?”   
Clarke let out a surprised laugh. “I feel incredible.”  
“Your eyes,” he said, pointing to them.   
“I’m trying to tone them down but I can’t.”  
“It must be all that power. It’s circulating, trying to find a place to settle inside you,” Lincoln said.  
Octavia gulped and stepped forward carefully. She stuck a hand out just to make sure the energy field was gone and she wouldn’t get zapped. “You guys okay?”  
Clarke shot forward and crushed Lincoln to her chest. “Yeah, we’re fine. Thank the Fates.”   
Lincoln kissed the side of Clarke’s head. “Thank you,” he said, voice shaky. “Thank you so much. This,” he struggled to get the words out. “This is a new freedom I haven’t felt in ages.”  
Clarke smiled, her eyes watering again. “I know.”   
“So what does this mean?” Bellamy asked, coming to crouch behind Clarke. His hands settled on her shoulders and she pulled away from Lincoln to settle against Bellamy’s chest instead. She felt winded but in the best way possible.  
“It means our Clarke just became an even bigger badass,” Lincoln answered with a smirk. That coupled with his tear soaked face, it made them all laugh.  
Clarke wasn’t sure it made her more of a badass, but it definitely made her more of something. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t itching to find out what exactly it made her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaa so that just happened! What do you guys think?? Please REVIEW. And thank you for reading <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. I went on vacation and couldn't post a new chapter till I got back (though I could have sworn I posted a new chapter before I left..hmm... oh well). Enjoy!

Clarke was on her fourth burrito. Or maybe it was her fifth? No, her sixth. Either way, her hunger felt like it would never be satisfied.   
“Slow down, Clarke,” her mom said, eyeing her from across the table. “You’ll get a stomach ache.”   
Clarke didn’t even take notice to her mom’s words. She stuffed another half burrito in her mouth. Clarke had never felt hunger like this; she vaguely thought of Lincoln. This was his hunger. But Clarke couldn’t feed the way a Soul Seeker could. So Lincoln’s hunger had no choice but to manifest in the form of…well…food.   
Clarke finally took a breath after she finished her latest burrito, throwing the wrapper into the pile beside her.   
Abby snorted, hiding it behind a laugh. “Can we go now?”   
“Fine,” she said, gulping down her water.   
They left to Kane’s mansion but Clarke was nervous. She wasn’t sure what Kane would have to say to her after the recent events. As it was, Clarke and her friends had been ambushed by Cage’s people, tried to take one of them hostage but failed, set loose a wild Soul Seeker (there had been no accounts of dead people by the pier so Clarke viewed that as a good sign), and now she was a coven leader, effectively taking herself out from under Kane’s thumb.   
Yeah, she was a little nervous of what he had to say,  
Abby seemed pleased by the turn of events. But Clarke had a growing suspicion that her mom had been planning for this from the very beginning. But she wasn’t sure why.   
They were supposed to be at Kane’s earlier that afternoon, but Clarke’s hunger had made them stop at the nearest burrito joint. Lincoln thought Clarke’s way of handling his hunger tendencies was hilarious, but Clarke’s thighs were starting to hate her for it.   
The manor was uncharacteristically quiet that early evening. Clarke wasn’t sure what she expected but for the place to be relatively empty was not it. There may have been a small part of her that expected some witches to be out on the lawn with pitchforks ready to ruin her. Another part of her figured they’d be so happy to have her out of the coven that they’d be throwing a ‘Good Riddance’ party in the main hall. Either way, she was a little unsettled by how empty the place was.   
Kane greeted them with open arms and smile on his face. If the empty mansion didn’t unsettle Clarke, Kane’s cheeriness sure as hell did.   
“Clarke,” he smiled. “Welcome.”   
Clarke stuffed her hands into her leather jacket.   
Meanwhile, Kane gestured them to the two open chairs at the front of his desk.  
Taking a seat, Clarke’s leg began to bounce.   
“How has the transition been going?” he asked.   
“She’s dealing with the hunger as best she can,” Abby interjected before Clarke could answer. “A Soul Seeker’s hunger is a tough thing to balance.”   
“Of course,” said Kane. “And he is the only one sired to you?”  
“He’s not sired to me,” Clarke finally bit out. “He placed his trust with me. It’s not the same thing.” Her eyes narrowed on Kane.   
“I didn’t mean to offend. But I have to ask these questions.”  
“You don’t actually. I’m not sworn to you anymore,” Clarke said. “You can ask but I don’t need to answer.”   
Kane rested a hand on Clarke’s shoulder and Clarke couldn’t help but feel like she was back here on day 1 where she gave away her powers to Kane. Not anymore, she thought. She’s a coven leader now.   
“We just want to help you, Clarke. We can train you in the ways of a coven leader. Show you how things should be.”  
Clarke rose from the chair abruptly. “No,” she said. “I am coven leader. I will run things how I see fit.” And with that, she slammed Kane’s office door shut.   
Clarke shook her head. The audacity of Kane.   
“Clarke!” her mom called from the door. She grabbed hold of Clarke’s elbow and turned her around. “Will you please listen to the advice Kane has to offer? It could help.”   
“Mom, I love you, and I know you’re just looking out for me, but you need to let me do this on my own.” Clarke sighed. “Everyone keeps saying I was born for this; that I’m powerful enough to be a great coven leader. But I never believed it. Now I’m trying to figure out what kind of leader I need to be.”   
Abby sighed. “I don’t think you should do this alone. But I get it. I do.” She pulled Clarke to her chest, rubbing her hands along Clarke’s back. “If you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me. Okay?”   
Clarke nodded against her mom’s shoulder, feeling a warmth she hadn’t felt since she was a small girl. Just before her witch training began, Clarke realized.  
“Are you going to Lincoln?” Abby asked.  
Clarke nodded. “I should go check on him.”   
“Be careful,” she said, kissing Clarke’s cheek.   
“Always.”   
Clarke made her way to the front door, pulled out her cell phone, and sent Lincoln a quick text to meet her at Bellamy’s apartment. She was already missing her mate and it had only been two days. But Bellamy had been working crazy hours at the precinct and it was wearing on him. Not to mention he had to deal with Finn. Despite Clarke’s pestering, he refused to tell her anything about how Finn was dealing with her ‘rejection’. He claimed Finn was his partner and he was the only one who would deal with his partner. Clarke would just have to trust him on that. But she still felt a little nervous.   
Clarke had barely made it down the mansion steps when a voice stopped her.   
“Clarke!” the voice called. “Wait!”   
She turned to see Jasper running down the steps, with his buddy Monty huffing close behind. They both fell over each other once they reached her, trying desperately to catch their breaths.  
“We-“ Jasper started, sucking in a breath. “Need to-“ he stopped again.   
“Talk,” Monty finished, one hand on his chest and the other on Jasper’s shoulder.  
“Hey, guys,” Clarke chuckled.   
Jasper gulped. “We need to talk,” he said.  
“Okay,” Clarke stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets again, ignoring the buzz from her phone. “What’s up?”   
“We want to know, I mean, Monty and I, and well, maybe my girlfriend though I’d have to ask her cause, as it is she won’t be too happy with me once I ask you this question and who knows how she’ll react and,”   
“Jasper!” Clarke said, snapping her fingers in his face. “Get to the point, please.”   
Monty stepped forward. “We want to know if we can join your coven.”   
Clarke’s easy smile from before slipped from her face. “You want to what?”   
“Join your coven,” Jasper said. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he chuckled nervously, suddenly afraid of Clarke’s hesitation.   
“I really don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Clarke said. Her phone started to buzz again in her pocket.   
“Please, Clarke,” said Monty.   
“Have you guys even given this some serious thought? This means leaving the protection that Kane has provided for you, leaving your families, and for what? To sign on with me? I think you guys have it pretty well here, if you ask me,” she said.  
“You don’t know how we have it here, Clarke,” said Monty. “Our powers are not ours. They belong to him. We hardly ever leave the compound. If we do, it’s for small missions that we aren’t even allowed to use our powers. The most action we’ve seen is when we went to pick you up at the warehouse,” said Jasper.   
“You realize swearing to a coven leader means more than going out privileges, right?” said Clarke.  
“Of course,” Jasper said.  
“We don’t fully agree with Kane’s methods anymore and it doesn’t feel like we mean anything to his precious coven anymore either. He’s just using us to fuel his own strength,” answered Monty.   
Clarke’s phone went off yet again. Cursing, she pulled her phone out. “Give me a second,” she said to the boys. “What?!” she yelled into her phone.   
“Clarke,” Lincoln said on the other end. “We have a problem.”   
Clarke cringed away from the phone when she heard a loud and elongated yelp of pain. “What the hell was that?” she asked.  
“It’s Octavia,” he answered.   
Clarke steeled herself to the ground, her voice sounding harsh over the phone. “What is wrong with her?”   
“Cage’s people made an attack, it looks like. She’s delirious, Clarke. I don’t know what’s wrong and I don’t know how to fix it,” he said, sounding just as frustrated and scared as Clarke – maybe more so.   
“Have you called Bellamy?” Clarke asked, already ready to run to his apartment.   
“No,” Lincoln answered.   
“Okay, good. Don’t call him. Not yet. Where are you?”  
Lincoln paused. “Your house.”   
Clarke almost felt her lungs give out. They attacked her home again, and this time it was Octavia who took the hit. Clarke bit down on her tongue until she drew blood.  
“It’s not your fault, Clarke,” said Lincoln into the phone. Another yell traveled through the line.   
Clarke gulped. “It will be if I don’t save her.” Clarke fished her keys out of her back pocket. “I’ll be there soon. Keep her wrapped up in blankets and put a warm cloth on her head. Don’t let her move around too much.”  
“Okay. Hurry,” Lincoln said. Another yell almost made it through but Lincoln hung up the phone before it could hurt Clarke’s ears.   
“Clarke?” Jasper called.   
“Sorry, guys. I have to go.” She was already halfway down the driveway.   
“But, wait,” Jasper and Monty called out. But there was no way they would reach her and make her stay to listen. Octavia was in danger. Clarke wasn’t stopping for anyone.   
“Please!” Jasper yelled across the yard. His desperate plea, his broken cry, it broke something in Clarke. So much so, that even through the thought that kept telling her to get to Octavia, to save her, there was also a part that told her to save Jasper too. Help the boys, it seemed to say to her.   
It doesn’t have to be either or, Clarke told herself. She could help them all.   
“Come by my house later tonight. At 8.” It was all she said because she didn’t want to promise them a spot in her coven if she couldn’t guarantee it. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t sit down with them and talk things out. Maybe she could help them another way.  
The boys readily nodded and Clarke didn’t miss the way Jasper’s eyes glazed over as he nodded.   
Clarke smiled but immediately threw the car in reverse. She was glad she could offer a small glimmer of hope to the boys, but Octavia was the one in desperate need of saving now.   
And Clarke had no idea what to expect.   
She grit her teeth, her jaw locking, and vowed she would make Cage pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOA. Two chapters in one day?! I'm in a good mood, so I thought I'd treat you guys ;)

Clarke heard the screams before she opened the front door. They were more like moans, like sad and tormented moans. She gulped past the lump in her throat and shoved her way in, following the moans all the way to her living room. For a moment, Clarke could hear Octavia’s screams merging with the ones Clarke had unleashed the day she found her dad. Remembering it still left a burn in Clarke’s chest, an aching hole that she felt would be there for the rest of her life – however long that may be.   
The slight smell of fresh paint hit her nostrils as she looked up the stairs toward her dad’s study. They had just finished repainting it, and fixing all the plumbing Clarke had ruined that day. It seemed to make Clarke bitter as she considered the remodeled study. It was like they were erasing that day from the house, erasing her dad from it. But Clarke would never be rid of it. That day would live with her forever. Even in death.  
“Clarke!” Lincoln shouted from the living room.   
Octavia had started to shake uncontrollably against the pillows and Lincoln’s restraining arms.   
Right, Clarke reprimanded herself. Her friends needed her right now.   
She crouched next to Octavia, placed a hand on her forehead and almost immediately recoiled. She was boiling, probably literally. Clarke tried Octavia’s hands instead, but with the same result. She pulled back with a hiss. Clarke caught sight of the wet cloth on the ground and picked it up, letting it coat her hands in moisture. Concentrating her energy, Clarke froze her hands over, only momentarily cringing at the sting of ice coating her warm flesh. She caressed the sides of Octavia’s face and temples. The sound of ice melting, a crinkling whisper, accompanied Octavia’s groans, and within seconds the ice evaporated into the air.   
Octavia let out a sigh as she settled on the couch.   
Clarke cursed under her breath, settling back on her feet as she pulled Lincoln aside.  
“What did you do?” he asked.  
“Whatever Cage and his men did, it’s killing her,” she said instead.  
Lincoln tensed. “Excuse me?”  
“Something is dehydrating her system. I put some water back into her system but judging by how quickly she melted through that ice, she’s using up too much water too fast.”  
“Well what do we do?” he snapped. “Do something!”   
“Lincoln, relax,” Clarke started, but he cut her off before she could continue.  
“I’m not going to relax, Clarke! Octavia is dying!” he said, voice rising as if that would make Clarke understand the situation.   
But she understood the severity of it. She ran her hands through her hair, trying not to yank out the strands.  
“I know that, Linc. You yelling at me isn’t going to save her. I’ll keep her hydrated until we can figure out a way to fix it,” she said. She tried real hard not to let herself be offended by Lincoln’s tone. If that were Bellamy on that couch, she’d react in much the same way.  
With that thought, she reached forward and wrapped her arms around Lincoln. “I’ll save her,” Clarke promised into his chest. She wasn’t completely sure how, but she had an idea. She just hoped it worked.  
“Please,” he whispered against her hair. “She’s important to me.”  
“I know. She’s important to me too,” she said, stepping back. “I’m going to call Bellamy. He’ll want to be here. I will be right back, okay?”   
Lincoln didn’t answer though as he turned back to Octavia, his eyes narrowed, guilt marring his features.   
“He will pay for this, Linc. I promise.” For the first time in a long time, Clarke really felt like she could keep this promise.   
Lincoln nodded finally and Clarke left to call Bellamy. Clarke didn’t explain the whole thing to Bellamy but she wouldn’t have been able to anyway. All she had to say was Octavia’s name and Cage’s men and he was telling her he would be right there. But the more time passed, the more and more Lincoln’s fear and Clarke’s anxiety seemed to congest the room.   
Clarke continued to administer more and more treatment for Octavia, but she wasn’t getting any better and Clarke couldn’t hold off any longer.   
“Octavia!” Bellamy’s voice came from the entryway.   
The heavy footfalls of Bellamy’s boots were too loud to Clarke’s ears and when she rose from her spot beside Octavia, she saw why.   
Trailing behind Bellamy was Finn, his hands stuffed in his pockets and leaning against the wall.   
Bellamy paid no mind to him, or even explained why Finn was leaning against Clarke’s living room wall, but Clarke didn’t ask. Octavia is what mattered to him. She watched him caress Octavia’s cheeks and whisper something to her but then Octavia started to fuss under the blankets and her moans began again.   
“I’m doing what I can,” Clarke whispered. “But I think the only way to save her is for her to swear fealty.”  
Bellamy tensed. “So why haven’t you done it?” There was hardness to his voice that broke Clarke’s heart. She hated seeing him in pain over this. It was her fault after all, wasn’t it?   
“She’s nonresponsive, Bell. I can’t do it against her will. That’s not how it works.”  
“Then what do we do?”  
Clarke took a breath. “I can’t make her swear, but you can. You’re her blood. You can speak for her and it works all the same.”  
Just then a cough came from the other end of the living room. Right, Finn, Clarke reminded herself. She watched him touch the edge of a picture frame that had a photo of Clarke as a child sitting on a swing her dad had made for her out back.   
“I had to bring him,” Bellamy said. “He was with me when you called and I didn’t want to waste any time.”  
Finn cleared his throat behind them and Clarke had to bite back a snarky response to his constant need to remind them of his presence. But when Finn got close enough to them, Clarke sensed something. She wasn’t sure what it was but it was like faintly hearing white noise in the distance. The closer Finn got, the louder the noise became.   
Clarke turned her head and watched Finn move about her living room. He steps seemed calculated, slow but determined. He bent to examine another photo by the window and the soft glow of sunset and beginning streams of night, had cast a shadow over the side of Finn’s face. That’s when she noticed one of his eyes shift yellow and peak her way.   
Clarke reacted. A burst of speed and a firm grip brought her to Finn and she shoved him back, his head slamming against the wall. “What the hell are you?” she bit out.   
Finn chuckled. “I should be asking you that.”  
“Clarke!” Bellamy and Lincoln yelled.   
“You treat all your guests like this or just me?” said Finn.  
The static noise surrounded Clarke and it blurred the edges of her vision.   
Clarke had heard stories as a child. They had haunted her nights and plagued her dreams. As an adult, the stories stopped worrying her because she knew they’d never apply to her; she’s be safe from them because a regular witch could not see them.   
A cold shiver ran down Clarke’s spine. A regular witch couldn’t see them, but a coven leader could.   
Finn’s eyes flashed yellow again. The skin around his eyes crinkled and the bones of his cheeks protruded out from his face, distorting his beautiful image that Clarke had always seen. His glamour melted away before her eyes and Clarke jumped back with a yelp. She felt seven years old again. But this time her dad wasn’t there to calm her fears.   
“With the amount of power you posses I’m kind of shocked it took you this long to figure it out,” Finn chuckled.  
“Clarke?” Bellamy said coming up next to her. He ran a soothing hand down her arm and felt the goose bumps spread faster.  
“You’re a Seer,” Clarke breathed.   
“Bingo, Princess,” he smirked.   
“What?” Lincoln gasped. He stood at full height and, despite the gnawing fear at the pit of his stomach, he blocked Octavia from Finn’s view.   
“Seer?” Bellamy questioned.   
Clarke swallowed and tried to answer him, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Finn. Now that the glamour was gone, Clarke couldn’t look away. Finn’s real form was a lot taller and broader. But his bones were sharp and threatening to break out of his ashy skin. His skin, Clarke thought. It looked like he had taken a shower in ashes. It contrasted greatly against his yellow eyes.   
Finn took a step forward and Clarke couldn’t help but tremble back. Bellamy’s arms came out around her, but that didn’t make Clarke feel better. It made her feel trapped in the nightmare.   
Finn’s smirk didn’t help the situation at all. “I’m a Seer, Blake. I know things no one else does. I can see things no one else has seen yet, and once they do, it’s too late to do anything about it.”  
“Like a psychic?”   
“Don’t be stupid, Blake. Psychics don’t exist.” Finn shook his head. “Well that’s a lie actually. They’re groveling little halflings who don’t have enough power to do anything useful except tell people they’ll find love someday.” He walked over to the photo he had seen of Clarke as a child and knocked it over. “Or that they’ll lose a loved one.”   
Clarke was torn between cowering in a corner and knocking Finn’s teeth out. But, well, the fact that Clarke was pretty sure in his real form he’d kick her ass and since she couldn’t even open her mouth to answer Bellamy because she was so scared, that really didn’t give her the luxury to choose.   
“Want to explain why my girlfriend is so scared of you right now?” Bellamy snapped. He, on the other hand, was pretty close to throwing a punch at him.   
“Oh I’m a thing of legends. I’m the thing of nightmares that parents tell their kids to scare them into submission. Nice to see my reputation precedes me,” Finn chuckled, watching both Clarke and Lincoln step back at the sound of his chilling laugh. “But it could also be because Clarke feels she should have known all along.”  
Clarke shook her head. The sound of voice was grating in her head and she hated how much the fear held her in place, powerless to him.   
“Should have known all these years, Princess. Should have known when we first kissed,” Finn trailed off, smirking.   
“Stop,” Clarke breathed.   
“When we first touched,” Finn continued. “When we first had sex.”  
Clarke snapped, feeling her skin crawl at the reminder. She fought through her fear and slammed her fist down Finn’s smug face. There was a crack that sounded in the room and Finn fell to the floor with a thud.  
“Can’t say I didn’t see that coming,” he chucked, cradling his jaw. As soon as the words were out, another fist came down on the side of his nose.   
“Aw fuck!” he yelled, blood pouring onto the floor. “Okay I didn’t see THAT coming.”   
Bellamy shook his hand out because, damn, that punch hurt. But the pain in his chest hurt a lot more. He glanced at Clarke from his peripheral and tried to stamp down the sting of betrayal. They weren’t together then and she owed him nothing. He knew that to be true. But it still hurt to know Clarke had been with someone else, and his partner no less.   
Clarke shook her head and decided she was done fearing this sack of shit. She froze her hand into an ice shard and held it against Finn’s neck.   
“Whoa, whoa, Clarke,” Finn started, his eyes widening and actually showing some sense of fear which surprised Clarke enough to hesitate. “I can help you,” he said.   
“How?” she asked.  
“I’m a Seer, Clarke. You know the stories of all the bad I can do. But you also know the instances where Seers have advised coven leaders. I can be useful to you and your vendetta with Cage.”   
It was like the magic words Clarke wanted to hear. She pulled back only slightly. “Why hide this? Why not tell me the day we met?”   
“It’s a little hard to make friends with witches when I tell them what I am,” he said pointedly toward the ice shard against his neck.   
Clarke pulled her hand away and her eyes narrowed at his answer. After watching him gulp and wipe at the nose under his nose, Clarke realized that Finn had just revealed to her something he probably hadn’t meant to.   
“Fine,” she said, ice melting away.   
“Fine? Clarke, he’s dangerous!” Lincoln said from behind them.   
“He won’t hurt us,” she answered, already moving away from Finn.   
“Hey, don’t ruin my street cred. I’m very dangerous and could hurt you. Not saying I will, but I can,” Finn argued, almost like a petulant child.  
Clarke turned back around, her blue eyes blazing. “You won’t hurt us, Finn. Because you need us.”   
Finn’s head tilted. “What makes you so sure?”   
“Like you said, it’s a little hard to make friends considering what you are,” she smirked.   
“Are you serious?” Lincoln said. “The Seer is lonely?”   
Finn moved like a blur in the air and wrapped a hand around Lincoln’s throat. “I’m not lonely.”   
“Yes, you are. It’s the reason you didn’t tell me, the reason you joined the force and became friends with Bellamy,” said Clarke.   
“You’re right, Clarke,” Finn grounded out. “But there’s nothing me tying me to this Soul Seeker. I could snap his neck right now.”  
“You won’t. He’s Bellamy’s friend and very close with his sister. How do you think he’ll treat you if you kill him?” said Clarke, sinking beside Octavia again.   
“Hpmh,” Finn mumbled, dropping Lincoln back to the ground. He straightened out his shirt, smoothing the wrinkles from the tussle. “You will all be the death of my impeccable reputation.”   
“You and I still have things to discuss,” Bellamy said to Finn, glaring from the couch.   
“Sure thing, partner.”   
As Clarke, Bellamy, and Lincoln huddled around the couch monitoring Octavia’s condition, Bellamy spoke first. “What are we waiting for?”   
“As awful as it sounds, I need her to be on the brink before we can start. When she’s at her worst, we start the process. I’ll take her pain as my own and then swear her to me. I should be powerful enough to absorb whatever is causing this to her,” said Clarke.   
“It won’t hurt you?” Lincoln asked.   
Clarke decided not answering was the best option.   
“Clarke,” Lincoln started.  
“It’s the only way I can help her, Linc. I can handle it.”   
“Listen to your coven leader, Soul Seeker. She’s strong,” said Finn from the chair by the fireplace.   
“My name is Lincoln,” Lincoln said, glaring.   
“And I’m so sorry for that,” Finn said.   
Clarke rolled her eyes already regretting her decision to let Finn stay. He had always been a jokester but they were harmless jokes. It was clear to her now that the personality of a Seer was who he truly was. It was far more annoying than regular Finn.   
“You’ll want to get that,” Finn said suddenly.   
“What?” Clarke asked.  
A knock came from the front door and it made the three of them jump. Clarke shot a look back at Finn and glared at his smirk.   
“Don’t keep Fate waiting,” he said.  
“I swear I might shoot him,” muttered Bellamy.   
“I’ll help you,” Clarke said as she got up to get the door.   
Clarke’s shock only lasted a fraction of a second before she remembered why seeing Jasper and Monty at her front door wasn’t out of the ordinary. She had told them to come.   
“I guess this means you guys thought this through? At least I hope so,” said Clarke.   
“We did. And we may have brought a few…friends,” said Monty, hesitantly.   
“Who?”  
Jasper and Monty moved off to the side and behind them, standing on Clarke’s front lawn were a mass group of kids. Kids, really, that’s what they were. They were young, like Jasper and Monty. Like me, Clarke thought. Sometimes she forgot just how young she was. But there were so many of them.   
“Fates,” she breathed. “How many are there?” There has to be-”  
“One hundred,” Jasper said. “There’s one hundred.”  
Clarke gasped, her gaze going back to the kids on her lawn. “And they’re all Kane’s?”   
“Well, sort of,” said Jasper.  
“What does that mean?” Clarke crossed her arms over her chest.   
“Some are Kane’s. Others are Kane’s prisoners.”  
“Prisoners?” Clarke said, her voice rising. “You brought Kane’s prisoners to my house?”   
“It’s not what it seems, Clarke,” said Monty. “These kids they’re not dangerous. They’re just…” Monty trailed off, struggling to find the right word and Clarke wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one.   
“Delinquents,” Jasper finished. “They’re delinquents looking for a second chance.”   
A second chance. What Clarke would give for a second chance. Maybe her dad would still be alive. Maybe all those witches she killed by killing Dante would still be alive. Maybe she wouldn’t have even joined Dante’s coven in the first place.   
Clarke sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “One hundred delinquents,” she said. “This should be good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be sure to REVIEW. And as always, thank you for reading! I adore you guys <3


	17. Chapter 17

Clarke manages to herd all the delinquents into her kitchen and dining room but even that feels weird. There were just too many to fit in her living room, what with Finn’s ego taking up a lot of space. Jasper and Monty are shuffling after her into the living room where Octavia is groaning again, clasping Bellamy’s hand. He looks up as they enter, brows furrowed.   
“We’ll start soon,” said Clarke, assuring him.   
“What’s wrong with her?” Jasper asked.   
“She was hurt to get to me,” said Clarke. “You sure you still want to swear to me?”   
Jasper tensed visibly and Monty shrugged beside him. “We’re sure,” Jasper answered.   
Clarke nodded before placing her hand on Lincoln’s shoulder. “How you doing?” she asked.   
Lincoln’s chest warmed at the question. He hadn’t expected Clarke to worry about him right in that moment with Octavia hurt and Bellamy so worried about his sister. Silly of him to think that, he knew. He was family to Clarke. She was family to him, too. And now they were a coven. “I’m managing,” he said.   
“Good, because I‘m going to need your help with this.” Clarke lead him to her dad’s study, only shivering once as they stepped through the doors. She ignored the chair at the head of the desk; it had been replaced since that day. But Clarke couldn’t look without seeing her dad…the blood. She shook her head and went to the bookshelf. Pulling out a blue-spine, she revealed a hidden compartment inside the book.   
Three needles laid flat on the pages.   
“What’s that?” Lincoln asked.  
“Waterstone,” Clarke said. “After I joined Evan, Dad worried my powers would weaken me. He was scared the addiction would kill me. So he got his hands on some waterstone and melted it down.”  
“Injections,” Lincoln said lowly.   
“Exactly.” Clarke gave Lincoln one needle from the bunch. “If I’m not strong enough, I need you to stab me with this.”   
Lincoln flinched back. “What does that mean?”   
“When you swore to me, I mean, nothing ever felt like that. It was so overwhelming. Our bond was strong before that. What we did with Evan, it bonded us.” Clarke took Lincoln’s hand. “Octavia and I don’t have that yet and if I’m going to connect us in a way that I’ll be able to take her pain, and force her to swear, I need to be stronger.”  
Lincoln shook his head. “Are you saying you’re not strong enough?”   
“I’m saying I might not be. There’s a difference in bonding with someone I’ve known for years, and someone I’ve only known for a few weeks.”   
“But you woke her element. Doesn’t that bond mean anything here?”   
“Of course it does. It’ll help, but I don’t’ know what Cage’s men did to her exactly. Fixing that, taking that pain, and having her swear to me, it’ll take everything I have.” Clarke motioned to the needle in his hand. “Maybe a little more.”  
Lincoln locked his jaw and examined the needle. “You know this stuff is illegal, right?”   
“I know. I have no idea how my dad managed to get some.”  
“Because he was human. He can have it. But you can’t. We can’t.”   
Clarke shut her eyes and fought the pain in her chest. The exclusion of her own dad from her world hurt more than anything.   
“You’ll have to lead the rituals, too,” Clarke said.   
Lincoln sighed.   
“I’m not sure what state I’ll be in to swear her in myself. As my second, I’m giving you that power.”   
“Isn’t there a formal ritual for you to give me that power?” Lincoln chuckled.   
“Probably,” Clarke shrugged. “But this’ll work. I grant you the authority to swear in Octavia Blake.”   
Despite the situation, they both smiled.  
Lincoln sobered and looked around the room. “Is it weird being in here?”  
Clarke followed his gaze to the desk and the damn chair. She shivered. “Not weird. But it feels like I shouldn’t be in here.”  
“He’d be so proud of you, Clarke.”   
She wrapped her hand around Lincoln’s and let out a shaky breath. “Maybe. But I won’t stop until the people who took him from me are gone.”   
“I’ll help you. You know I will,” Lincoln said fiercely.   
A short scream made us both stand on edge.   
“Show time,” Clarke said, squaring her shoulders.   
The living room had acquired a few curious delinquents, all drawn in by the sound of Octavia’s screams. Clarke shoved her way through and Bellamy was already seeking her out, clutching Octavia’s hand. Clarke placed a comforting hand on Bellamy’s shoulder. She gave it a squeeze.  
“No matter what happens, you can’t stop the process once its begun. Okay?” she said to Bellamy.   
He gulped as he took that in and watched Octavia start to writhe beside him. He nodded.   
Clarke went to stand at the edge of the couch by Octavia’s propped up head. She placed her palms on either side of Octavia’s head. Clarke hesitated for only a moment. She wasn’t quite sure how to do it. She had seen it done before only a handful of times, but she didn’t allow herself the time to worry about actually performing it. But standing with her hands on Octavia, on her friend counting on her to stop the pain, Clarke couldn’t help but tremble.   
Lincoln stood beside her and placed his hand over Clarke’s arm. Their eyes met and they shared a brief moment.   
Clarke’s body was flooded with a sense of comfort and strength. She smiled to Lincoln in thanks before facing Octavia again. As she watched Octavia struggle between her palms, as she felt her skin start to burn, Clarke wanted nothing more than to make it all go away for Octavia. Clarke missed Octavia’s kindness. She missed her smile. She missed her fierce and excited eyes. Suddenly Clarke knew what to do. There were no magic words to speak that would fix it, or even a potion to concoct that would make the pain fade away. It was a feeling, Clarke realized. The strong sense of wanting to protect the people she cares about. It propels Clarke to bend forward and touch her lips to Octavia’s forehead, to feel the burn on her own lips, and pray to every God of Fate known to witches everywhere.   
Let me bear it, Clarke thinks to the Gods. Let me bear it so they don’t have to, she continues.   
Thin black lines formed on Octavia’s skin. They started to pulse under the skin.   
Bellamy opened his mouth to speak but before he could form a question, the lines began to slither. His eyes went wide just watching.   
The lines traveled up Octavia’s skin, creeping up her neck and meeting Clarke’s palms resting at her temple. The lines ate up Clarke’s skin and forced the tremble in Clarke’s hands to return.   
Clarke groaned against the ebbing pain. It moved from her palms and started to flow up her arms, around her shoulders, and back down her back. An anguished gasp escaped her lips when the pain reached the backs of her knees, forcing her down. But it was nowhere near over. Clarke kept taking. She took all of it.   
Just lifting her head to signal for Lincoln to go on with the fealty ceremony made her want to crumble on the ground.   
“Bellamy Blake, of the human world, do you speak for Octavia Blake, of the Elemental world?” started Lincoln.   
Bellamy trembled but kept his hold on Octavia. “I do.”  
“Does Octavia Blake swear fealty to Clarke Griffin, to have her element tied to Clarke’s element, to swear allegiance when allegiance rings true? Does she swear-”   
Lincoln’s next words get cut off as a scream rips through Clarke’s throat. Sweat coats her brow and her skin turns pale.   
“Uh oh,” said Finn from his place by the window, forcing everyone’s heads towards him. “Looks like the little princess isn’t as strong as I thought.”   
“What does that mean?” Bellamy yelled at him, hand slipping from Octavia’s.   
“No,” yells Lincoln. “Don’t break the contact. We have to finish it.”   
Bellamy cringed at the sound of Finn’s laughter ringing throughout the room.   
“Does she swear under her element of Aquaria, that this fealty stands willingly and uncontested?” said Lincoln.  
“Yes,” Bellamy said, no hesitation.   
Another harsh gasp escaped Clarke. The black lines on Octavia’s body had all but disappeared but the way they reacted on Clarke’s skin, it was like they were choking her. Breathing became difficult and Clarke’s hold on Octavia was slipping. One hand slid down the sides of Octavia’s face.  
“I swear!” said Jasper, rushing to Clarke’s side, hand on her shoulder.   
A warm light erupted from the place where Jasper was touching Clarke. It caused another warm light to glow from where Clarke was touching Octavia.   
“I swear,” said Monty, touching Clarke’s arm. Light blossomed once again.   
“I swear,” said a small voice. She came forward and touched Monty’s shoulder. Another light.   
More and more voices chimed in with “I swear,” and a touch to a shoulder, all in some way connected to Clarke. Light filled the room and the black lines on Clarke’s body started to evaporate, replaced instead by a steady stream of light the color of the ocean. It forced her eyes to glow blue.   
The last voice in the room to swear and acted like a seal. And even in the chaos of light, Clarke knew the voice.   
“I swear,” said Murphy.   
Clarke didn’t even know Murphy was among the 100 that had arrived at her house, and she had no time to ponder it anyway.   
With his fealty, the entire house erupted. The walls shook, books clattered to the ground, glass cracked against the force of energy swarming the room. In an instant, the light imploded, spread throughout the room, and went crashing into Clarke’s chest.   
The energy dissipated and took the windows with it. Glass showered the room; the loud sound of a blast filled their ears and then all was quiet.   
They had been coated in darkness after the crashing sound. The evening had set in but the moon was the only thing casting any light into the home.   
Until Clarke gasped.   
She was glowing. Her veins were shinning blue and casting a beautifully calm iridescence in the room.   
“Bell?” said a soft, meek voice. Octavia had begun to stir on the couch. Bellamy clutched the sides of her face.   
“Are you okay?” he asked.   
She nodded. “Yeah, I feel…lighter? It’s weird. But not a bad weird. It feels nice,” Octavia said.   
Lincoln had moved tentatively toward Clarke. “Clarke?” he said. It was more to get her attention than anything else, but when she set her glowing blue eyes on him, he couldn’t move. The sight of her glowing eyes, her shinning blue veins, it unsettled him. Lincoln had never seen her like that before. It both scared and awed him. He had no doubts that that was why no one else moved toward her either. Too afraid to break this beautiful spell…  
“So much power,” Clarke crooned. “I’ve never felt anything like this.”   
Bellamy gave Octavia’s cheek a caress before getting up and flowing Lincoln. They stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting and watching for Clarke’s next move. There was something animalistic about the way Clarke gazed at her blue veins. It was new territory and no one was certain how she would react to it. There was nothing stopping her from letting all that power out right now and knocking the house to the ground.   
But Bellamy knew her. She wouldn’t. He stepped toward her. “Babe, you okay?”   
Clarke shook her head. “I’m amazing. I wish you could feel this, Bell. It’s like flying through the clouds or walking on fire. It’s like breathing under water,” she whispered.   
Bellamy contemplated touching her. Her skin was inviting as much as it was warning him off.   
“Do it,” said Finn from the corner. “I’m sure it’ll be enough to take the edge off.”   
Bellamy had no idea what he was talking about. If Finn had managed to read his mind, Bellamy would bite his head off for it later. But Bellamy had no idea what he meant about taking the edge off. Yet, it was like the green light Bellamy had been looking for. He reached out to Clarke and the minute he touched her skin, the blue of her veins, the blue in her eyes, it had slowly evaporated. He wrapped his arms around Clarke the second the warm blue light around her was gone. She shivered as she buried her head into his chest.   
“Thank you,” he mumbled into her hair.   
Clarke turned her head enough to make out the outline of Octavia on the couch.   
A light had been switched on. “There. That’s better,” said Finn. He faced the room again and nearly stumbled. “Whoa.”  
“What?” Clarke said.   
“Wow, did you manage to get a hair job while I was out?” Octavia said.   
Clarke’s eyes widened and she looked to Bellamy who was just smiling and shaking his head.   
“Just like my dream,” he said.   
Clarke fingered the strands of her hair and she looked down. She scoffed. Her blonde hair was brighter than she had ever seen it.   
“I’m already missing the black,” Finn yawned from the chair by the fireplace.   
Clarke rolled her eyes, but she had no explanation for it. Her dyed black hair had been literally burned off to reveal Clarke’s true color, her true nature. It was unsettling sometimes how honest the elemental world kept its people, but Clarke couldn’t deny the affectionate (and dare she say hungry) look that Bellamy was giving her with this new look.   
“Clarke,” Octavia said, getting her attention back. “I have a message for you.”   
“A message?” she asked.  
“From Cage.”  
“You saw him?”   
“Oh yeah. He wasn’t hiding anything when he and his men captured me, and he wants me to deliver a message to you,” Octavia said, cringing.   
“Let’s hear it,” Lincoln interjected.   
“401 Cloverfield Lane,” Octavia said.   
“That’s it?” Bellamy asked.  
Clarke froze. That was the same address she had seen in her dad’s study that day she found him.   
“That was it. Does that mean something?” Octavia asked.   
Clarke couldn’t seem to answer.   
“How is that possible?” Lincoln said, voice shaky. “Clarke, how does he know about that?”   
Clarke swallowed the bile rising in her throat. “Evan,” she said. “I found out Evan has been under Cage’s payroll this whole time.” Clarke ran a hand through her newly blonde hair and considered yanking out the strands.   
“If he knows about that then he knows about-”  
“I know!” shouted Clarke. She started to pace around the living room.  
Bellamy tried to catch her gaze, to grab her arm and stop her from pacing, but she paid no attention to his efforts.  
“What’s there?” asked Octavia.   
Clarke eyed her new coven. There were just so many of them, and she knew they had to have heard stories about what Clarke had done in the past. No one her past was secret. Witches talked.   
“That’s where we buried him,” Clarke answered. “That’s where we buried Dante.”   
“You’re telling me that Cage knows where you buried his daddy?” said Finn, scoffing.   
Fighting the frustration, Clarke nodded.   
“Why didn’t you burn it?” Finn asked, almost scolding Clarke.  
Clarke laughed humorlessly at herself. “Because Evan told us not to and like an idiot, I agreed with him.” She shook her head. “Fuck!” she cursed.   
“Wait, help us out here,” said Octavia, scratching at her head. “Why does it matter if he knows where the body is?”   
“Because there’s a chance that Cage could reverse it. He could take away the power that Clarke got from killing Dante,” answered Finn.   
Clarke let her head fall into her palms. If she lost the power she took from Dante, she would never be able to take Cage out. She would never be able to avenge her dad. Her coven wouldn’t be safe. She glanced up at Bellamy. Her own soulmate wouldn’t be safe either. “We need to get the body,” said Clarke.   
“What makes you think it’s still there? If he knows where it’s hidden then there’s a good chance he already has the body,” said Octavia.   
“But there could still be a small chance that he doesn’t,” said Lincoln. “He could be using it to lure us into a trap.”   
“A trap that we’re going to walk into,” said Clarke.   
“Why would you want to walk into his trap? That’s too dangerous,” said Bellamy, shaking his head. He looked ready to argue this for another hour.   
“Because we can’t let him get his hands on the body. I have to take that risk. Losing my powers means this fight is over before it even begins,” Clarke said, rubbing her temples.   
Bellamy took her face in his hands. “I’m not letting you do this alone. If you’re walking into his trap, then so am I.”  
“I’m not going to put your life in danger like this,” she said, caressing his bottom lip.   
“Good thing it’s not up to you,” he smiles, brushing his lips over her forehead. “Where you go, I go.”   
“Me too,” Lincoln said.   
“Same,” Octavia chimed in.   
“Us too,” said Jasper and Monty.   
The rest of the 100 came in closer. “We’re with you too,” said the girl who had sworn after Monty.   
Clarke made a mental note to ask her name later.  
“Before any of you,” Clarke said, pointing toward the 100, “start agreeing to join my crusade, you should hear the full story of how this started. I won’t have anyone pledging blind allegiance to me. If you want to fight, know what you’re fighting for.”   
The 100 nodded once to their coven leader and Clarke steeled herself, braced her shoulders and prepared to lay all her dirty laundry out on the table. This should be fun, she thought with a curse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I thought giving you guys two chapters last time would be enough for me to write more and update again, but it's summer. I've been on vacation on and off all of August and didn't think to write more chapters before leaving. For that, I'm sorry! But it's September (aka back to school month) and I'll be more disciplined. The story continues! Hope you'll keep reading!


	18. Chapter 18

Clarke pursed her lips from the passenger seat in Bellamy’s car, turning her head to see Jasper, Harper, and Fox huddled behind another house down the block. Clarke knew that if she craned her head in the other direction up the street, she’d see Lincoln, Octavia, and Monty huddled there. Bellamy and Clarke were parked closer to the address Cage had mentioned, but still hidden enough to know if anyone other than them approached the house.   
“How long do you expect us to wait here?” grumbled Murphy from the back seat.   
“I don’t know,” was Clarke’s immediate response.   
“And we’re just supposed to walk through the front door? That’s the master plan?”   
“We talked about this already. I’ll take point through front entrance and you-”  
“Yeah, side windows, I know. But you really think he’ll let us in that easily? The fight might happen on the front lawn for all we know.”   
“No one forced you to come along,” said Bellamy, hand gripping the wheel. “So if you want to leave then get out. Otherwise, shut your mouth. Your voice is annoying.”   
Murphy huffed as he settled against the seat. “My voice is not annoying,” he mumbled.   
“Take a nap, Murphy. We’ll wake you when the action starts,” said Bellamy.   
Murphy bristled slightly before moving his back against the side of the seat and laying his head down against the window. It only took ten minutes before his breath evened out and Bellamy shook his head as he realized Murphy had indeed gone to sleep.   
“Why did he do that?” Bellamy asked.   
“What do you mean?”  
“He listened to me. He never does that.”   
Clarke shrugged and wrapped her arm around the headrest of his seat, hands curling into the ends of his hair. “Things are different now. He’s part of my coven, and you’re my soul mate.”   
Bellamy rubbed circles into Clarke’s thigh. “So what does that make me to the rest of them?”   
Clarke smiled. “It makes you their leader, too. We rule together,” she said.   
Bellamy froze for a moment. He was a leader? To these kids? Kids with magic? There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. What if he was a bad leader? What if he let these kids down, or worse, let Clarke down?   
Clarke took his hand in hers, sensing his anxiety but also worried his grip around the steering wheel would get so tight he’d break it. “Take a deep breath,” Clarke soothed. “I know you’re freaking out, and I get it. But this means your part of our world now – no one can exclude you. So long as you’re my soul mate, this coven is yours just as much as it is mine. And we’ll do it together.”   
Bellamy nodded slightly, still freaking out about the idea. But something she said sparked a question in him. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he started. “Octavia is part of your world. Octavia is my sister. This stuff is supposed to be hereditary. So,” he trailed off.   
Clarke cleared her throat. “I knew we’d have to have this conversation eventually. I had hoped it would be once this was all over, but if you’re asking, I’ll tell you.” She readjusted herself in her seat. “I read the file Kane had on Octavia and it did say that her mom was a witch, too. But it had nothing on you. I don’t know what that means because you’re right; this is supposed to be hereditary. So, the only answer I can come up with is…” Clarke hesitated. Did she really want to put this out there right before going into battle?   
“Tell me. I can take it,” he said.   
“It could mean that Aurora is Octavia’s mom. But not yours. The file never listed Octavia’s dad so it could mean he’s human, too unimportant to list in the file.”  
Bellamy cursed under his breath and let his head fall back on the headrest. “But, what? How? Is she-” Bellamy swallowed. He had no idea where to even begin. But as fear slammed into his chest he asked, “is Octavia not my sister?”   
Clarke grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him close. “Listen to me, Bellamy Blake,” she said, glossing over the fact he flinched at his last name. “Whether or not Octavia’s dad is also your dad, or even if Aurora wasn’t your biological mother, it does not mean Octavia isn’t your sister. It does not take away from the love you both share for one another. She is your sister. Period.”   
“But what if, Clarke?” he whispered, too afraid that it would be true, that Octavia wouldn’t biologically be related to him.   
“If Aurora isn’t your biological mom, and if Octavia’s dad isn’t your dad, then that tells us why she’s Aquaria, and you aren’t. But trust me when I say that it doesn’t mean she stops being your sister. And if you think for one second that Octavia will let genetics dictate who she calls her brother, then you don’t know Octavia at all,” Clarke said, smiling.   
Bellamy chuckled despite the fact his world just turned upside down, but had it really? He knew that if Octavia was a witch, but he was just a human, then it was a possibility that they weren’t really related.   
Before he could say anything back, Clarke’s phone buzzed on the center console.   
“Harper says they just saw a black SUV headed this way,” said Clarke. It still surprised her to know her coven was behind her, even after they knew everything. Telling it all, from start to finish, detailing the way Dante had gained her trust. Clarke was so young and desperately seeking a space away from home, away from Kane who was vying to get her fealty. Dante had met her at the perfect time. He didn’t beg her to join his coven. He told her he could teach her real control. He told her he had others like her, wild and seeking freedom. He told her he could protect her from leaders like Kane.   
Clarke believed him.   
The first few months of being in his coven were unlike any freedom and joy that Clarke had felt. Dante didn’t monitor her powers. He provided her with teachers and books that showed her she was not the only one of her kind. Aquaria were known for being wild, like the open sea. They couldn’t be tamed, and when there were those who tried, Aquaria wouldn’t let anyone tame them. They would lash out. They would cause wars. In her research, Clarke learned to control her power but give it freedom; she found a balance and peace she couldn’t get from anyone or anywhere else.   
It was the dream, Clarke told herself. But then it turned into the darkest nightmare she had ever known. Even remembering it, having to retell it to her coven, it made her sick.   
Clarke had been staying with Dante at his mansion, with her coven, and it was one night, around 3 am, that she woke up to moans. She wandered toward the kitchen but heard nothing else. She was prepared to go back to bed when a loud clatter from beneath her feet had startled her. She moved the rug next to the pantry and found a trap door. Some days, Clarke dreams of that night. She dreams that she had ignored the sound and gone back to bed. In other cases, she dreams that she sets the entire house on fire.   
A staircase had led her straight to the noises. A witch was strapped to the operating table in the middle of the room, moaning, bleeding, sweating. They were begging for the pain to stop. The person standing over the witch wasn’t someone Clarke had recognized but then she heard a voice in the shadows.   
“Increase the dosage. Give it two days and extract more. We need more.” It was Dante.   
“Sir, I don’t think this one will last. We should extract now,” said the white coated man.   
“Make him last. He’s the last test subject I can get without raising suspicion,” Dante answered.   
Clarke watched them stab ten needles into the witch, five on each side of his body, before stabbing one straight in his chest. Clarke slapped her hand over her mouth to keep from calling out. She watched the witch writhe on the operating table, like he was having seizure.   
Clarke didn’t confront Dante then. She needed to know what they were doing. She had stayed until both the white coat man and Dante were gone before examining everything in the room. She found unlabeled bottles and thousands of needles. The files were even harder to decipher. They were looking for ways to extract the “X” gene and implant them in humans.   
The witch was still on the operating table. His chest moved but Clarke knew there was no way he was waking up anytime soon.   
Two days, Clarke reminded herself. She came back down two days later. They extracted so much blood from his body, Clarke couldn’t help but cry. They were killing him. It wasn’t until a white slither of light escaped from the witch’s mouth that Clarke knew his fight was over; he was dead.   
She confronted Dante the very next day and he freaked. He threatened to put her on the operating table next if she so much as whispered this to another soul.   
Suddenly all her freedoms and peach were shattered. She was confined to the mansion, only to interact with the few who lived there. She went on missions for Dante that she realized were his way of getting more test subjects.   
It was on one of her missions visiting another coven that she met Evan and Lincoln.   
Clarke shuddered thinking of all she had done for Evan, too. She had killed Dante. She had taken his powers, and all those in his coven, killing the people she had once been a part of.   
It was Clarke’s biggest regret, but also the only way she could save her kind. Killing Dante meant saving witches from the operating table she had seen in Dante’s basement. But it actually didn’t. Clarke cursed thinking of all the things she should have done to solve the problem. She should have destroyed the research. But Evan had convinced her that too many eyes were on the house now; it was too dangerous to go back in. Clarke should have gone to another coven the moment she found out about the experimentation. But fear of ending up the experiment kept her from doing so.   
The moment Clarke told her coven about the experimentation, everyone was on board. The idea of torturing witches, of taking their powers, and putting them in humans… It was taboo. It was wrong.   
Clarke shook her head and reread the text Harper sent her. Time to get her head in the game.   
The black SUV pulled into the driveway and Clarke shuddered as she caught sight of a white suit exiting the passenger side.   
It had been a while since she’d seen Cage Wallace in the flesh. She had seen countless photos and the vivid memories were enough to give her shivers, but seeing him walk out of the car, tuck his hands in his pockets, and strut through the front door where his father was buried, it almost made Clarke roll down the windows and hurl.   
“Hey,” Bellamy whispered, catching her hand.   
Clarke tore her eyes from Cage as he disappeared into the house.   
“We’re going to be okay. Promise me that,” he said.   
Clarke swallowed and reached across the console. She crashed her lips on his, pulled him closer and closer until they were practically on top of each other, and then she slowed the kiss down. They exchanged brief touches, light and careful. “We’re going to be okay. We’ll finish this and go on that damn date you owe me.” She smiled into the next brush of his lips.  
Bellamy knocked his fist into Murphy’s knee behind them. “Rise and shine. It’s show time,” he said.   
Murphy rubbed his eyes but the smirk he sent Clarke told him he had been awake for some time, no doubt hearing bits of their conversation.   
“Let’s do this. And be careful,” she said to him.   
Bellamy took his gun out from the glove compartment before getting out of the car, Clarke and Murphy following. They each split up, taking different sides of the house.   
Clarke took a breath. She put her hand on the door knob. She spotted her people moving into their positions. She felt Bellamy on the other side of the house. She could do this.   
She waited for Murphy’s signal. Then she heard the window crash and she threw the door open, hands balling into fists before letting them open wide, exploding the pipes in the walls and throwing plaster from the wall everywhere.   
A few of Cage’s henchmen were on their feet about to charge at her when they both went flying to the ground, their feet knocked out from under them. Jasper came into view and smirked. He held his hand out to keep them down on the ground.  
Clarke gave him a brief nod before moving farther into the house. When she took a step toward the fireplace, a loose floorboard creaked under her foot. There, she thought. She bent to pry the floorboard open when she hard someone swear.   
“Look out!” she heard Murphy yell.   
A body flying through the air and a crash into the front window beside Clarke followed it.   
“Monty!” Clarke said. He was lying limp on the ground, blood and cuts on his forehead.   
“I’ve been waiting.”  
Clarke grit her teeth at the voice. She had hoped to never hear that voice again.   
“Is this how you’re going to say hello, Clarke?”   
Clarke’s hand balled up on reflex, but then the air around them started to hum and Clarke pulled at the energy surrounding her, the moisture clinging in the air, and sharpened it, like needles. They pierced through Cage and Clarke couldn’t help the bit of satisfaction it brought her to see him cringe.   
“You never quite learn,” he said, shaking off the prickling feeling Clarke was giving him. “Those are parlor tricks to me, sweetheart. You should have let my father train you before you killed him.”   
“But this isn’t a parlor trick, bitch,” said Octavia, hands outstretched. Shards of ice flew from her hands and Jasper threw harsh bursts of wind to propel them faster through the air.   
The intrusion of Octavia and her ice had caught Cage by surprise and he had only a second to dart away from the shards. A drop of blood slid down his cheek as he realized he had been sliced. The drop stained the white undershirt he wore.   
Clarke fed off the energy in the room and created an energy blast targeted for Cage’s chest. The force sent him flying through the living room wall and into the kitchen.   
Monty had gotten back up and was rustling the wind around him, tossing it up in spirals, creating a mini tornado. He projected the tornado around Cage’s body. The air thinned inside Monty’s tornado, bringing Cage to his knees.   
“Now, Bellamy,” said Clarke.   
Bellamy kicked the back door in, gun raised.   
Just as he was to fire a shot into Cage’s leg, a door opened. Clarke barely registered Cage’s smirk before her heart sank.  
“Bellamy?” said a voice.   
Bellamy turned toward the soft voice; it was hesitant and hopeful. A girl stood with her hands clutching her chest, brown curls up in a loose ponytail, skin darker than Clarke’s, and cleaner, purer.   
Clarke immediately sensed something off about her, but couldn’t quite place it. But when Bellamy locked eyes with the girl, Clarke felt her chest splinter. A snap that echoed in Clarke’s ears made her cringe.  
“It’s you,” the girl breathed. “From my dream.”   
The words tore Clarke’s insides to pieces. She fell to her knees, her breath coming up short.  
“Clarke?” Monty said. The small moment he took away from Cage was all he needed.   
Cage stood abruptly, the force of his energy breaking Monty’s tornado and tossing the angry wind flying throughout the room. Monty crashed to the floor.   
“Bellamy?” Clarke groaned from the floor.   
But Bellamy was too transfixed by the girl. “I’ve seen you,” he murmured.   
The girl’s smile lit her entire face.  
Cage’s laughter rang throughout the house. “Must be so heartbreaking to see the one you love bond with another,” he said.   
Octavia tried to take a step forward but suddenly Cage snapped his fingers and Octavia’s world went black.   
“What the fuck!” she screamed.   
“Why can’t I see?” said Murphy from behind her.   
Both Lincoln and Harper were fumbling in the background, feeling the walls around them, trying to get to Octavia and Murphy. But Cage had blinded them, leaving just him, Clarke, Bellamy, and this new girl.   
“Clarke, are you okay?” yelled Lincoln from the living room. But he was walking toward the fire place and couldn’t help even if he needed to.   
“What have you done, Cage?” said Clarke.  
“It would seem Bellamy isn’t your mate after all. And yet your heartache is so real,” he said, somewhat amused.   
Clarke’s chest burned under her fingertips and she tried to get up, the pain flowing down to her legs and toes. But she fought through it. “Bellamy,” Clarke said, trying to draw his attention. He didn’t even spare her a glance. “Bell!” she tried again.   
He finally met her gaze, his glance looking annoyed at the interruption, and it was his glare that made Clarke flinch. That wasn’t the look of her mate.   
Clarke’s eyes watered, and she opened her mouth, searching and searching for the right words, any words.   
When it seemed like Clarke had nothing to say, Bellamy turned his focus back to the girl in front of him. His eyes softened on her and Clarke actually whimpered, her heart so sore and splintered.   
“Terrible, isn’t it? When our loved ones betray us?” said Cage suddenly much closer to Clarke than she would have liked. But the pain of betrayal was clouding her senses too much and she barely had time to shove Cage away when he wrapped an arm around her chest.   
“Bell-” she started just as the sharp stab of a needle slammed into her neck, making her yelp. Her vision clouded and blurred while her muscles went limp.   
“Clarke!” Octavia yelled.   
Lincoln roared as he tried to get to Clarke, slamming every piece of furniture in his way.   
But a hush fell throughout the room, and suddenly they could see.   
They saw Bellamy smiling at this brown haired girl, Monty clutching his head and groaning, Harper blinking rapidly, Lincoln breathing heavily, and Octavia glaring at the open space around them. Because she was the first one to notice what was missing.   
Clarke wasn’t there. Neither was Cage. He had taken their coven leader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see, fam. I've been super busy, especially now that I'm back in school and working. So please, PLEASE, be patient with me. I'm not giving up on the story; I know exactly where it's going and how it ends now. So stick with me. I appreciate all those who have stuck around and keep reading, and to new readers, hello! Glad to have you. And strap in. Things are about to get witchy ;)


	19. Chapter 19

Grains of sand scratched against Clarke’s palms. Rocks dug into her knees as she tried to sit up. Her eyes felt swollen shut and when she tried to open them, she realized they were indeed swollen. At least the left eye was.   
Then she remembered.   
Cage had dragged her away. She had no idea where to, but the air felt drier than the air around Los Angeles that Clarke was so used to. There was no hint of sea salt in the air and it set Clarke’s nerves on overdrive. Cage had strapped her to an old wooden chair and had taken pleasure in giving Clarke the pain he felt when his father had died at her hands. The knife marks on her arms were starting to sting from the dirt and grime touching them. Her mother’s voice filled her head, warning her about infection. Then Clarke chuckled. That was the least of her worries.   
In the midst of all her physical pain, there was the hollowness in her chest that made it hard to focus on Cage and his men just a few feet away, somewhere else in the place she was trapped in.   
She couldn’t forget the look on Bellamy’s face just before she was taken. It was like before, when she was held overnight at the precinct.   
There was a tear in her chest, like the rope that had kept her and Bellamy tied together was there but not touching. It made each breath a struggle, each memory of him hurt, every second feel like hours.   
Clarke cleared her throat and tried to focus her thoughts. She couldn’t let the pain of Bellamy make her lose her resolve. She had to make it out of this alive. Because it was no longer just about her and her feelings. She had a coven to protect now.   
With her one good eye, Clarke examined her surroundings. The room was poorly lit, but from the cool cement touching her feet, and the overhead wooden panels above her, she figured she was being kept in a basement.   
Classy, she thought to herself.   
There was a broken freezer to the right of her, but when she looked closer she realized the freezer wasn’t broken at all just shut off. Clarke’s brows furrowed. Then she sniffed the air.   
Clarke cursed under her breath. Of course she knew the air had been drier than the LA air, but there was no trace of moist air at all. They were trying to cut her off from any access to water, air included. They couldn’t completely, though. That was impossible. By putting Clarke in the airtight room, cutting off proper ventilation, it caused Clarke to sweat. The sweat coating her body and brow were the only sources of water keeping Clarke’s powers alive. It was just enough. Clarke only hoped it would be enough so that she could have strength to find a way out. 

 

Bellamy knew the girl sitting across from him. But then he didn’t. Her brown hair looked familiar, like he had spent hours touching it. But when he really thought about it, he had never pictured himself touching brown curls. Her eyes were beautiful, but they also didn’t feel right. But he swore they felt right. He craved her touch, but when she reached across the table and her fingertips touched his hand, it felt like snakeskin.   
He pulled away.   
“We need you to talk to us,” said Kane, pacing behind Bellamy. “These silent glances you keep giving Bellamy aren’t doing you any favors.” Kane’s voice left no room for argument. He had reached his wits end with her. And with Bellamy, if he was being completely honest.   
“She better start talking or I swear to the Fates I will strangle it out of her,” muttered Octavia from the corner. Her hair had provided a shield against her brother and the mystery girl he couldn’t seem to look away from. Lincoln was sulking next to her, blaming himself for letting Clarke get captured. Octavia wanted to reach a hand out and caress him, to ease his guilt. But there was a pit in her stomach that kept her mind focused on Clarke. She could be anywhere. And Octavia could feel her coven leader’s pain just under the surface of her skin. She had no doubt that Lincoln could feel it too. She just wondered why couldn’t Bellamy.   
The girl lowered her head, hands and arms folding in on themselves.   
“Do you guys have to be such assholes to her? Just ease up,” Bellamy said. He couldn’t figure out why they were so hostile toward her. It was because…because- why were they upset again? He couldn’t remember.   
“No, we can’t. Clarke is missing and she’s in pain. Or do you not even care about her anymore?” Octavia snarled.   
Clarke, he thought to himself. That’s right. He vaguely remembered Clarke’s smile, her blue eyes, her blonde waves, flowing like the ocean waves themselves. But then her face morphed into hers. The face sitting in front of him.   
“Ask for her name,” Lincoln said, eyes never leaving the mystery girl at the table.   
Bellamy actually managed to turn and face Lincoln, the sound of Lincoln’s voice gentle but unwavering. He slowly faced the girl in front of him again and gave her a small smile. “What’s your name?” he asked.   
The girl returned the smile and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Gina. Gina Martin.”   
Bellamy’s smile widened. The name fit her. He liked it.   
“What’s the last thing you remember before seeing Bellamy, Gina?” Kane asked.   
“I-” she hesitated. “I don’t-” She broke off again.   
“Come on now, it’s not a difficult question.” Octavia rose from her chair in the corner and charged the desk. “Unless you have something to hide I suggest you start talking.”   
“O, back off,” Bellamy warned.  
“No!” she yelled, whirling on Bellamy. “I won’t back off. My coven leader, your soulmate, is gone. Missing. She is hurting, Bell. I can feel her pain. She’s trying to block us out because she doesn’t want us to feel it, because she’s that type of person to hide the pain. But I can still feel it despite that. And you care more about this girl who you’ve known for all of a couple hours than the girl you said you loved.” Octavia’s rant made Bellamy’s eyes go wide.   
His mouth opened like he wanted to argue, but he had nothing. Everything she said was all true. A sinking feeling hit the pit of his stomach and he closed his eyes to try and shove it back. But when he closed his eyes, he saw Clarke, and not just the Clarke from his memories.   
He saw her lying on a dirt floor, bleeding, weak. He flinched back with a gasp. “I just saw her,” he whispered.   
“What?” Octavia started. “Clarke?”   
Bellamy nodded, a hand coming up to his chest, rubbing at the spot like it ached. On some level it did.   
Gina suddenly whimpered and her hands slammed on the table in front of her.   
The lights overhead started to shake and suddenly the glass shattered around them. The lights fizzled out. The ground beneath them started to shake.   
“What is she doing?” Kane yelled over the rumble of the earth.   
“Make her stop!” yelled Octavia.   
Lincoln bolted across the room and brought his hands down on Gina’s shoulders. He angled her head toward his with one hand and sucked up her energy. The ground stilled and Lincoln continued to drink up Gina’s soul. When her shoulders relaxed under his touch, he let go.   
Gina’s head lulled, her body feeling light. “I woke up in a lab,” she said breathlessly. “A lab underneath the house.”   
“What house?” asked Lincoln.   
“I don’t know. His house, I guess. I heard people call him Cage.”  
“What else did you hear?” Lincoln went on.  
“He said I was a success. He said I would help him get justice for his father’s death, that I would help him facilitate the evolution of the human race.”   
Bellamy froze.  
Octavia’s blood ran cold. “Gina,” Octavia started. “Were you born a witch?”   
They waited, bodies tense.   
Then Gina shook her head. “I was human before he took me.” Then tears slipped down her cheek. “Before,” she said almost reverently. A strangled gasp broke from her lips. “Before!” she suddenly yelled. “My parents, my girlfriend, my home,” she cried. “He took me.”   
Lincoln crouched beside her and placed a hand over her trembling ones. “Focus, Gina. We can help you find home again,” he said. “But before we do that, we need your help finding our friend. Can you do that?”   
Through her tears, Gina nodded.   
“Can you tell us anything else about the house? Every detail counts, even the ones you think are useless,” he said.   
“The air felt dry,” she said, wiping her tears. “It was always hot. Before we left he kept telling his men to keep the basement airlocked. There were no clouds outside, just darkness. Sand kicked up as we drove away.”   
“I saw Clarke lying in dirt,” Bellamy said quietly from his seat. He had taken to looking at his hands, hating the sight of them.   
“He couldn’t have taken her too far,” said Octavia.   
“My guess would be Vegas,” said Lincoln. “Cage has contacts there that Clarke and I were keeping our eyes on.” Lincoln scoffed, running a hand over his face. “Evan told us to let it go, that Cage wouldn’t go there because it was too obvious. Guess he was right. It is too obvious, but that’s why he would go there.” Lincoln let go of Gina’s hands and eyed Bellamy across the table. “Keep trying to reach Clarke. See if she can help us pinpoint where she is exactly.”  
“How am I supposed to do that?”  
“Your soulmates,” he answered. “At least your supposed to be. Think of her, dreamscape with her.” Lincoln said it as if the answer was obvious, as if it were an easy task.   
Bellamy imagined it was a simple task, but with Gina in the same room it felt like the greatest challenge he had ever faced. He got up from the chair and left the room, door slamming a little too loud behind him.   
Octavia shook her head. She was nowhere near done with him, but she let it slide. He had his task. She and Lincoln had theirs. She turned to Gina one last time before leaving the room. “Stay away from Bellamy,” she said. “Or that home you so desperately want to get back to will die along with you.” Octavia grimaced at her before slamming the door on her way out, too.   
Lincoln followed soon after, not bothering to placate the fear Octavia instilled in Gina. Even kindhearted Lincoln had his limits, and he couldn’t forget that this girl basically helped Cage kidnap his friend, his sister.   
Kane sighed, hung his head low, and sat across from Gina. “I understand your confusion and fear. Maybe even anxiety,” he said, arms folding on the table. “But I hope you can understand we are all a little on edge around here. We all care about Clarke very much.”  
Gina nodded, still trembling. “I want to go home,” she said.   
“And you will. Once Clarke is back,” Kane said. “In the mean time, would you mind if we ran some tests on you? Nothing invasive,” he promised. “But when a human walks in our midst exhibiting magical powers, we all get a little curious. We’d like to see how your cells are bonding with the magic.”   
Gina hesitated for only a moment. She had a feeling even if she said no, they’d find a way to get it from her regardless. She sensed that cooperating was in her best interest here, especially if she ever wanted to make it home. Her parents were waiting for her. Her girlfriend is waiting. Her eyes watered again at the thought. What was Raven doing right now, she thought. She missed her something fierce, but she latched on to that feeling, letting it override the strange feelings Bellamy evoked in her, and the fear trying to break her down. 

Octavia had just finished packing her overnight bag into Lincoln’s truck when he came out and placed a hand on her shoulder.   
“What are you doing?” he asked even though he had a feeling he already knew the answer.   
“We’re going to Vegas,” she said.   
Yup, Lincoln thought, he knew that was what she’d say. He sighed and reached around her, hand pulling on a latch from the side of the trunk. It opened to reveal an assortment of weapons he and Clarke had been trained with. Octavia didn’t have experience with any of them, or with her powers. But if having her strap a dagger to her belt meant the difference between life and death, he’d make her strap it on.   
“Are we telling Bellamy?” he asked.   
Octavia considered it. But telling Bellamy meant he’d want to come along with them. She wasn’t sure if he would go for her or Clarke at this point, but he had caused enough trouble. “No,” she said. “We go in without him.”   
“Alright,” Lincoln said, agreeing with leaving him behind. “We’re gonna need reinforcements.”  
“Good thing we have a full one hundred behind us,” Octavia smirked. 

Clarke stirred awake. She wasn’t sure how long she was asleep for, but her body felt stiff and drained. There was still sweat on her brow and working its way down her neck. Her strength dwindled still. It hurt to move, but she moved anyway, forcing herself into a sitting position. She opened her mouth to call out, to yell, scream for help, anything. But her throat closed up and she went into a coughing fit. There was dust and dirt in her throat, too.   
“Not a fun feeling, is it?”   
She jolted around, the action almost causing her to fall over again. Her palms scrapped against the sharp rocks on the ground.   
“Ca-” she started, but her throat closed up again.   
Cage smiled, teeth gleaming. “I have to admit I’m quiet pleased with how this plan turned out. I didn’t think you’d grow so weak so fast. It is the downfall of all Aquaria users. It is why the Aquaria users are so weak.”  
Clarke had spent her entire life hearing people tell her how powerful she was, how strong she was for an Aquaria user. Hearing Cage call her weak made her want to laugh.   
“You’re wrong,” Clarke rasped out. “I’m going to kill-” she broke off into a cough.  
“Kill me?” Cage laughed. “You can barely talk let alone stand up and kill me.” He bent down to her level. “I’m going to drag this out for as long as I can before I take back all that extra power you stole from my father. It was mine from the start. It should have never been yours,” he snarled.   
“I didn’t even want it,” Clarke grit.   
“Yet you still killed him using Aquaria knowing what would happen. Maybe on some level you did want it.” He caressed the side of her face, thumb coming out to trace her bottom lip. He pressed down on the dry cracks on her lips.   
Clarke pulled her face back, her head spinning when she did.   
“You know you’re going to die, Clarke. And by my hand. I will be the last face you see before you see nothing at all.” Cage lifted a hand up her dirty shirt, feeling the sweaty skin tremble under his palm.  
Clarke bit down on her bottom lip, eyes snapping shut at Cage’s touch.   
His fingertips brushed along the edges of her bra but then they were gone. He stood above her. “Get comfortable, Clarke. You’ll be here for a while.”   
And then he was gone.   
Clarke let out the breath she was holding and a sob broke free. She let herself crumble to the floor again, her tears wetting the ground under her cheek.   
“Please,” she whispered into the wet dirt. She shut her eyes again, praying sleep would keep her from the living nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy look who's back...back again...lol. Hi, guys. I know, been a long, long time. But I'm on winter break now so let's knock out a few chapters while I'm free, yes? Cool. Reviews are greatly appreciated. Thank you so, so much for sticking with the story even when life got to be too much for me and I stopped updating for a bit. You guys are too kind.


	20. Chapter 20

Clarke woke to the feel of warm sand on her back. The sea salt air filled her nose, prompting her to get up. Sunlight made her cringe but she had never felt so warm and alive. Her hair flew in the wind, caressing her shoulders and causing shivers to run down her spine. She heard the crashing of waves and her eyes flew open. Before her was the cool and salty ocean water practically whispering her name.   
“Clarke?”   
Was it really whispering her name?  
“Clarke,” it said again.   
No, that was a voice. It was a deep and soothing voice but it sounded worried. Clarke wanted to tell the voice not to worry, that she was at peace here.   
She got to her feet and took one step toward the water when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She held still, waiting. She took a breath, feeling the warm weight of the hand on her skin. Then an arm came around her waist. She watched the dark skinned arm reach around and grab her hip, holding her to a broad chest.   
“I found you,” he said.   
“Of course you did,” she sighed, relaxing into his touch.   
“Tell me where you are, Clarke.”   
Clarke’s brow furrowed slightly. “I’m right here,” she said.   
“No, you’re not. Tell me where Cage took you, please,” he said, voice absolutely distraught.   
“Cage?” Clarke said. She tensed in his arms.   
Bellamy turned her in his arms, hands cupping her face. “Clarke, I need you to focus. Remember Cage? Where did he take you? What do you see?”   
Clarke pulled her face from his grasp, shaking her head, eyes going wild. She looked back at the ocean over her shoulder. She walked towards the edge and waited for the wave to crash around her ankles, bringing her more peace. But when the water touched her, she felt nothing. She couldn’t feel the cool water foaming at her feet, or Aquaria working its way into her blood. Her eyes watered instead but even that felt fake to her. When she faced Bellamy again, she fell to the sand, hands digging in, praying to feel something but she felt nothing.   
“It’s not real,” she whimpered.   
Bellamy imagined his chest would feel heavier with guilt, and he felt some of it, but in this dream state, it was difficult to feel anything real. He bent down and grabbed Clarke’s shoulders. “Talk to me. Tell me where you are.”   
Clarke shook her head. “I don’t know!” She swiped her tears away, angry and annoyed that she let herself fall into a delusion, that she almost believed she was free. She could never be free. She should have known better. “He’s keeping me isolated from the main house. It’s dark and dry. He’s trying to cut me off from water.” Just saying the word made her throat run dry. Then she was suddenly gasping, her throat closing at the same time.   
“Hey, no come on, breathe!” Bellamy said, giving her shoulders a little shake.   
“It’s hard,” she wheezed, “to breathe. So dry.” Her body started to shake, the fatigue creeping into her dream, alerting her that she would wake soon.   
Bellamy pressed his lips against her forehead. “I need you to focus. What else do you remember?”   
Clarke snapped her eyes shut and tried to remember something, anything, even the smallest detail she may have glossed over. She suddenly jolted forward. “There were boxes,” she said. “In the back by the broken freezer. The labels I recognize. We were watching the company and their ties to Cage. It’s a company based ten minutes from Downtown Vegas.”   
“We’re coming for you, okay?” Bellamy breathed out.   
Clarke remained silent, eyes fixed on the moist sand she could not feel.   
“Hey, you hear me?” Bellamy continued but Clarke still sat silent. A pang hit his chest again. “I’m sorry,” he whispered instead.   
Then the dream faded, quietly, slowly, and painfully. 

Octavia rolled her eyes as she read the text Bellamy sent her. He had called to tell her what Clarke had remembered from the dreamscape, but when he found out she and Lincoln had already left for Vegas, he hung up out of rage. He couldn’t believe they had left without him.   
She tucked her phone away, ignoring the buzz as yet another angry text from Bellamy came through. She got it, he was mad. But, hell, so was she. Clarke was the first person that Octavia didn’t feel inferior around. Well, not the first. She felt that way with Atom, too. That’s why she liked being around him so much. But then Clarke came into her life. She showed Octavia an entire world that accepted her and invited her in while everyone else shunned her. Maybe she was doing this out of some sense of duty, a duty she owed to her coven leader; but Octavia knew it was more than that. She loved Clarke.   
“You okay?” said Lincoln from behind the wheel.   
She noticed the bags under his eyes and desperately wanted to touch them and wipe them away. Lincoln was someone else who had made Octavia feel at home. When she was first awakened, the new world of witches scared the shit out of her. There were so many rules she had to know, and some she was still learning. Yet Lincoln helped ease some of that anxiety. She wasn’t alone with him by her side.   
“I’ll feel better when we get Clarke back,” she said. “How much farther?”   
Lincoln glanced down at the GPS. “We should be closing in to her location in fifteen minutes.”   
Octavia nodded, wringing her hands in her lap.   
“Hey,” said Lincoln, reaching across the gearshift to take her hands in his. “It’s going to work. We’ll get her back.”   
She rubbed her thumb in circles on his hand. “And if it doesn’t?”   
Lincoln took a moment. “Then we go down with her.”   
From anyone else, that would mean they had no choice; if Clarke died, so did they. But coming from Lincoln, Octavia knew he meant that they would go down fighting right beside Clarke. She glanced behind them and nodded again as she saw the truck following behind them. They had notified the coven of what they were doing, and while there were a lot of volunteers to help rescue Clarke, they wound up taking Jasper, Monty, Harper, and Murphy. Octavia was actually surprised Murphy had volunteered, let alone that he was the first one to volunteer for the mission. Octavia suspected Murphy was a lot softer on the inside than he let on.   
When they reached their destination, it was all business. When Lincoln heard it was the company he and Clarke had been keeping their eyes on, he knew exactly where to go. The company itself, a paper manufacturing company acting as a disguise for Cage’s human trafficking gig, was located fifteen minutes from Downtown. But Cage couldn’t keep all the humans he trafficked in one location. Another twenty-five minutes from the factory was an abandoned mansion that had been burned down nearly twenty years ago. It belonged to Cage’s family. Apparently the fire had been caused by copious amounts of radiation filling the house and a few faulty wires. Officials never found the source of the radiation but had since closed the place down. From Clarke’s description, officials never thought to look underground.   
He parked the truck a few blocks down from the abandoned mansion and saw the van behind them do the same. Lincoln pulled out several weapons from the trunk and went back to the front to pull out a few more items. He came back with four water bottles in his arms. “Here,” he said handing Octavia a bottle. “Drink this entire bottle.”   
“Are you serious? I’ll have to pee in the middle of battle.”   
“Where we’re going, water is going to be scarce. And since that’s where you draw your power from, it could be a problem. If Clarke is struggling down there, how do you think you’ll handle it? Better to take precautions.”   
Octavia considered what he said. Then nodded. “Maybe I should drink two,” she said, uncapping the bottle.   
Lincoln smiled. “If you can chug two, that would be recommended.”   
Octavia shook her head and shoved a few more bottles into her backpack. On her belt Lincoln strapped a long dagger and two smaller knives.   
“In combat, Clarke would usually create an ice barrier around the knives. It makes the weapon bigger and easier to control if it doesn’t hit the target on the first try,” Lincoln explained to her.   
“Do I get a gun?” she asked.   
“Guns aren’t really that useful to an Aquaria user,” he said.   
“But it is for us Fire users,” said Murphy coming up from behind. He reached between Lincoln and Octavia and into the open trunk, pulling a gun out.   
Octavia wondered exactly how it was more beneficial for fire users than Aquaria, and as if reading her mind, Murphy checked the clip in the gun before answering her.   
“Whenever a bullet gets discharged, a spark comes off,” he explained. “Fire users harness that spark and use it to create fire. We can encompass the bullet with fire.”  
“So you just make a gun that shoots fire,” Octavia said, finally understanding how it wouldn’t work for her. It would be just a regular ol’ gun in her hands.   
“We ready to roll?” asked Jasper. Monty and Harper followed close behind.   
Harper reached between them to get a gun of her own and Octavia figured she was probably a fire user, too.   
“And the plan?” asked Monty, only equipped with a backpack. Jasper as well.   
Everyone looked to Octavia and Lincoln.   
“Uh,” started Octavia. “Rescue Clarke?”   
“Seriously?” said Murphy. “Five and a half hour drive and you guys didn’t think to come up with an actual plan!”   
“Would you keep your voice down,” scolded Lincoln. “Here’s the plan: find the hideout. We know it’s somewhere underground of his mansion. That’s what we need Jasper’s help to find.”   
Jasper nodded. “Piece of cake.”   
“Once we find it, we’ll need to find a way down without alerting their security systems,” Lincoln said looking at Monty.   
“Got it,” Monty said, patting his backpack.   
Octavia still wasn’t sure what Monty would be doing with his power, but she trusted Lincoln’s plan.   
“Once we’re down there, we need to locate Clarke.” Lincoln looked to Octavia.  
“Me?” she said, surprised.   
“You’re Aquaria, just like she is. Your powers call to each other naturally,” he explained.   
At Octavia’s tense posture, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “You can do this,” he assured.   
She nodded despite still feeling like she would let the team down.   
“And when we locate her?” she asked.  
“We go in guns blazing,” said Lincoln.  
“My kind of plan,” smirked Murphy.   
Finding the hideout wasn’t as difficult as Octavia first thought it would be; Jasper had inched a little closer to the abandoned mansion and knelt to the ground, palms touching the uneven pavement. In only a matter of minutes, he had the entrance located. It was behind the mansion, under the burnt shed and decaying flowers. But they still couldn’t afford to get close enough; Monty had his own magic to work first. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a small laptop, nothing bigger than his palm, and started typing away.   
Octavia watched, transfixed.   
“He has an affinity for electric energy,” said Lincoln.   
“Electric energy? So things that are powered by electricity?”   
“And then some.”   
“Everything is composed of electric energy,” said Monty, fingers and eyes never leaving his laptop. “It doesn’t just mean the energy that powers cell phones, laptops, or security cameras. There’s energy in the air; it runs on different frequencies and I usually have to change my focus so I can see it.”   
Octavia’s brow furrowed.   
Lincoln chuckled. “Simpler terms, Monty.”   
“Oh, sorry,” he said. “For example, our bodies all have electric energy. It hums around our bodies. If someone gets hurt I can see their electric energy change. It dims. Or lights up, like a red alert going off. It really just depends on how severe the injury. But the only way I can see that energy around our bodies is if I’m specifically looking for it. That’s why Electric Energy users are not as powerful. We have to know what we’re looking for in order to be effective.”   
Something beeped twice on his laptop and Monty smiled. “And we’re in.” He shuffled his laptop away. “We have about two minutes before they realize the backup generators aren’t going to kick in. Then they’ll really know we’re here.”   
“That’s two minutes to get in a find Clarke. Let’s go,” said Lincoln.   
They sprinted across the yard and Octavia’s adrenaline started to ring loudly in her ears. When they made it underground, it would be on her to carry out the plan, and she wasn’t exactly sure what to do. She wasn’t trained like they were.   
Jasper led them to the remains of the burnt shed and motioned for Lincoln to help him shove some of the debris aside. Underneath was a rusted latch.   
“This’ll be easy,” muttered Murphy as he lifted the latch.   
A loud, piercing alarm sounded as the latch opened.   
Octavia’s hands came over her ears. “I thought you turned off the alarms!”   
“I did!” said Monty over the alarm. “This one wasn’t on the radar!”   
“There goes our two minute window,” said Lincoln. “We move in now!”   
“Are you kidding me?” yelled Murphy.   
“NOW!” And then Lincoln jumped down the hatch.   
The rest of them followed suit, Murphy cursing aloud as he did.   
“Octavia, we need you to find Clarke,” said Lincoln.   
Octavia froze, her mouth agape. “I,” she stuttered, shaking her head.   
Lincoln’s palms cupped her face. “Hey, you can do this. You love Clarke, right?”   
“Of course,” she said.   
“Use that. Think of her, how much she means to you,” he said, his gaze intense and warming Octavia’s insides. She felt safe despite their current situation.   
She closed her eyes and tried to block out the sounds of the alarm overhead. She pictured Clarke, her blue eyes, the laughs they shared, and felt her own power project outward, trying to find Clarke.   
“Look out!” yelled Jasper.   
Murphy didn’t hesitate. He drew his gun and fired. It was only a split second from the sound of the bullet leaving the gun that fire went with it and encompassed the person coming after them. “Better find her quick, water user!”   
Octavia took a breath and tried again. She heard more yells and Murphy let out another shot of fire.   
It was suddenly like a switch; she saw Clarke struggling to sit up on the dirt floor. “I found her!” Octavia shouted. And she did. She knew exactly where Clarke was.   
Murphy took another shot and when the body disintegrated into ashes, he faced them. “Then what are we waiting for?” he said with a smirk. 

Clarke groaned and shoved her hands over her ears. An alarm had woken her up and if that didn’t, the loud yells and shuffling on the other side of the door would have. She sat up, her body sore and heavy. Her skin felt dry and rough along with her throat and just keeping her eyes open was a struggle.   
“What do you think?” scolded Cage as he opened the door. “Kill them!”   
Clarke whimpered against the invading light.   
“Stupid Clarke,” he muttered. He pulled her up in his arms and caressed the sides of her face. “You told them where to find you,” he said.   
She shook her head but it felt more like she was rolling it, swaying back and forth.   
Cage tsked. “We can’t let them take you back. I’m not done with you.”   
Suddenly the ground shook. A loud boom sounded from the other side of the door and when it crashed open, an ice dart flew between Clarke and Cage, the shard cutting the side of Cage’s face and Clarke’s neck.   
Clarke fell against the broken freezer as Cage shoved her aside.   
“I think you’re pretty done with her,” said Octavia, the dagger she had covered in ice remained hovering and pointed straight at Cage.   
“Such a weak girl,” he said, swiping the little drop of blood off his check. He flicked his hand out and the ice dagger Octavia had created suddenly evaporated into nothing.   
Her mouth fell open and her eyes widened for a second, realizing Cage was going to evaporate her too.   
“No!” yelled Clarke, mustering up the little strength that she had been saving and shoved Cage.  
They fell to the ground and Clarke fought; she tore at his skin with her nails and bit hard into the hands that tried to grab her.   
“Shoot him!” she heard Octavia yell.  
“I can’t!” Murphy yelled back. “Not without shooting Clarke, too.”   
Then Clarke went flying back. The ground beneath Cage’s back had lifted and jolted her back. She heard a crack and Cage screamed. Just when she thought she’d hit a hard surface, broad arms had caught her.   
“I got you,” said Lincoln. He pressed Clarke tighter to his chest.   
Clarke turned her face and let her head rest against Lincoln’s chest. She spotted Cage bent at an awkward angle on the ground, passed out. Jasper and Murphy hovered over him.   
“We take him,” said Clarke, barely more than a whisper.   
“Take him?” said Murphy, voice exasperated. “I can kill him right now.”   
“No,” Clarke tried to shake her head. “We finish it where it began.”   
“That’s an order,” said Lincoln, eyes narrowing at Murphy, daring him to argue.   
“Fine,” Murphy relented, his arms falling to his sides. “Whatever.” He made his way to the busted doorway he had blasted down and turned back toward a weak Clarke lying in Lincoln’s arms. “Can’t even thank us for saving you?”   
Clarke smirked before closing her eyes.   
“You’re an ass,” said Octavia, wishing she still had her ice-covered dagger.  
The exit was a lot easier than the entrance. When Cage’s men realized they had Cage captured, limp and broken with Murphy’s gun pointed at his head, they all moved aside. One wrong move meant instant death to their leader, and death for them in consequence.   
Cage rode in the van with Murphy, Jasper, and Harper. Octavia, Lincoln, and Monty took care of Clarke in the truck.   
Octavia pulled out a water bottle and before she could even open it, Clarke reached for it and started to chug it down.   
“No, stop her!” said Monty.   
“What? Why?” asked Octavia.   
Monty reached down and snatched the bottle from Clarke. She had already chugged through almost half the bottle.   
“She’s too dehydrated,” Monty started.  
“Then shouldn’t she be drinking more water?” she asked, incredulously.   
“Not that fast,” he said. “She’ll kill herself.”   
Clarke flew in and out of consciousness for the entire five and half hour drive back. They allowed her little sips of water that increased every hour she woke up.   
At the last hour, Clarke was strong enough to sit up. She held the water bottle in her lap, fidgeting with the cap. “Thank you,” she whispered.   
Octavia reached back and grabbed Clarke’s hand.   
Monty did the same.   
“Always,” said Octavia.   
Clarke nodded and swiped away the tears slithering down her throat.   
“Clarke,” Octavia said tentatively. “While you were there…did Cage…I mean, did he…”   
“No,” she said, saving Octavia from having to say the words. “But I think he would have. He wanted to.”   
Octavia gulped and saw the way Lincoln’s hands tightened around the wheel.   
“Murphy should have killed him,” said Lincoln.   
“No. He’ll die by my hand and mine alone,” said Clarke. A hooded look came over her face. “If anyone else kills him, they will suffer the same fate as Cage.”  
Monty glanced back at Octavia and Lincoln through the rearview mirror, his eyes pained by Clarke’s words. They were too dark for her.   
“What do we know of the girl?” asked Clarke.   
Everyone knew whom she was referring to. Gina.  
“Cage kidnapped her from her home. She’s human but Cage did something to her, experiments I’m sure, and she has powers. We aren’t sure the extent of them, but she has a lot of it,” said Lincoln. He watched Clarke grit her teeth. “She’s scared, Clarke. She doesn’t know anything about our world.”   
Clarke wasn’t sure what to do with that information. Especially when she thought of the connection this girl had to Bellamy. But still, a pang in her chest hit her when she thought of this girl and the family that must miss her. The family that Clarke was sure had mourned her. Would they mourn her the way Clarke mourned her dad?  
When the car pulled up to Kane’s mansion, Clarke saw Bellamy sitting on the steps. His head was in his hands, his knees bouncing every few seconds, and at the sound of the car pulling in he sat up quickly. It was like he could see her eyes through the tinted windows and Clarke felt that gaze all the way to her toes. She got out of the car with some help from Monty and when she was face to face with Bellamy, it was like seeing him that day they both found out they were soulmates. The dull ache in her chest that had been there since Cage kidnapped her started to slowly mend itself. The string that tied them together, although frail and thin, was reaching out for one another.   
“Clarke,” she heard him breathe out.   
Even still, when Bellamy took a step toward her, she took one back. Seeing Clarke move away from him cut Bellamy deep. But he couldn’t blame her.   
“Are-” he started. But he waited until the gang was behind him, headed up the steps of the mansion.   
“Don’t take long with her,” said Monty, just low enough for only Bellamy to hear. “Someone needs to tend to her wounds.” From the glare Monty shot him, Bellamy understood he was not in such good graces with Clarke’s coven. A coven, he remembered, she had told him was also his. He had let them down.   
When he heard the mansion door close behind him, he tried again. “Are you okay?” he asked. But when he saw the way her shoulders hunched over, the weariness in her eyes, and the blood sticking to her skin and clothes, he realized what a stupid question that was.   
And Clarke didn’t bother with answering it.   
He took another step forward. This time she didn’t move back, but she tensed up even more.   
“Can I-” he stopped. “I just,” he tried again but his throat closed up at the onslaught of emotions threatening to crush him. “I don’t know what to say here, Clarke,” he finally admitted.   
Clarke watched the struggle in his eyes and noticed the way his chest heaved as if breathing was difficult. She clutched her side that was throbbing since she got out of the car and tried to match the pain in her heart with it. But every time she looked at him she still felt the sting of betrayal. She remembered the way her chest tore and broke, the way the pain came unmatched to any other pain she had ever felt. Only matched with the pain of finding her dad dead, she realized.   
She moved past Bellamy, going up the stairs of the mansion.   
“Clarke!” he called after her.   
She stopped at the door, her back still turned to him. She heard his steps following her and felt the warmth at her back. It reminded her of the dreamscape they had done the other day. She craved that warmth and safety she felt in the dream.   
Nothing in that dream was real, she told herself as she remembered trying to feel the water from the ocean and feeling nothing, not even the sand.   
“Please,” he said. “Can I just hold you? I-I feel like you’re so far away and I know it’s my fault and I’m so so sorry, Clarke. So fucking sorry. You were so weak in the dreamscape. I couldn’t think about not seeing you again but I did. I worried I wouldn’t.”   
His words made her cry and then hate herself for doing it. But she craved his touch too much. She needed it to feel at home, to feel safe. So she nodded.   
His arms came around her so fast, like he knew she’d say yes, but she brushed it off and let herself melt in his embrace. She turned her head toward his, his breath brushing against her temples. She shuddered against him, finally feeling safe for the first time since being rescued. The arm around her waist tightened and his other hand caressed the sides of her face bringing her lips closer to his. Just as he was going to press their lips together, she turned her head.   
“Not yet,” she breathed.   
His chest hollowed at her words, but he nodded. He understood why. So he buried his lips in her hair instead and breathed her in. She was solid and whole, warm and soft in his arms. She was safe, he kept telling himself.   
The sound of the van pulling in broke through their moment. Clarke tensed in his arms again.   
“Get moving,” Bellamy heard Murphy say. He loosened his hold on Clarke but refused to let her go far.   
Murphy dragged a limping Cage up the stairs of the mansion. The smirk on Cage’s face made Bellamy tighten his hold on Clarke again.   
“What is he doing here?” Bellamy said, low and menacingly.   
“I’m going to kill him,” Clarke said as if the answer was painfully obvious.   
“Why didn’t they kill him the moment they rescued you?”   
“Your princess ordered me not to,” said Murphy, yanking Cage inside.   
Bellamy turned Clarke in his arms once they were gone inside.  
“I don’t want to hear it,” she said. “This is my decision.”   
Bellamy sighed, knowing he was really in no position to argue with her. And yet… “It was dangerous to bring him here, Clarke. You’re endangering more people than just yourself.”   
Clarke shoved out of his arms. “I brought him here to kill him. The only person in danger is him. And anyone who thinks they can lay a finger on him before I do.”   
“So you’re back to this?” he asked. “You’re not alone in this, Clarke!”   
“Oh? And who do I have? Do I have you?”   
The words hit their mark the way she intended. Bellamy flinched back, his hand absentmindedly rubbing at his chest just over his heart.   
“Because I’ll be honest, Bellamy, it doesn’t feel like I have you. It feels like you want to be there, but I can’t tell if it’s because everyone is giving you shit or because you feel guilty, but don’t use your guilt as the reason to stick around cause I don’t want it.” Clarke made her way back to the mansion door.   
“Clarke, I love you,” he said.   
With one hand on the door and the other over her heart, Clarke turned toward Bellamy. “And I don’t believe you.” 

Abby had just finished wrapping the bandage around Clarke’s torso when Clarke asked about the girl again.   
“Where is the girl?” Clarke asked.   
“She’s being contained in one of the interrogation cells. And the girl is named Gina,” her mom said, watching Clarke’s reaction.   
Clarke cringed. Part of her blamed her wounds, but she had to admit there was another part of her that didn’t want to know her name. It made her too real. But she is real, Clarke kept reminding herself. She isn’t an engineered person like Dante had been trying to make; no, she was a person who had been taken hostage and forced into this life.   
Kane walked in just then. “Oh good, you’re still here,” he said. “I ran some tests on Gina and I think I found a way to help her.”  
Clarke let out a breathe at the idea of some good news and shrugged on a clean shirt. “I’m listening,” said Clarke. 

Gina moved around in her seat. Her back had started to hurt after the fourth hour of being held in the interrogation room. There was nice couch off to the side that they had provided for her. She had taken a thirty minute nap before her anxiety kicked in and jolted her awake. She chose to remain awake since then.   
The door hissed open and she sat up straighter. The light from outside illuminated the fire beautifully. It’s an angel, she thought. Ridiculous. She shook her head. It was the girl Cage told her was evil. She didn’t look evil. A bit worn out, sure, but not evil. Her blonde hair looked tangled with dirt but still held a shine to it. Her blue eyes were the most captivating eyes she had ever seen. She always thought Raven had the most captivating eyes, and she still does, but seeing this girl in front of her now, it was on a completely different level. Something ethereal, Gina realized.   
“Do you know who I am?” asked the girl.   
“Cage showed me your picture,” she said.   
“Did he tell you my name?”   
Gina fought to remember if he had ever said a first name. She shook her head. “He called you his Griffin.”   
The girl nodded and gestured to the chair at the other end of the table across from Gina. “May I sit?” she asked pleasantly.   
Gina nodded.   
The girl smiled at Gina, and it threw her off. It was a warm smile, almost pitying but, no, that wasn’t it. She understood, Gina realized. This girl understood a lot of things and she carried herself like she held the answers Gina so desperately wanted to hear. Gina relaxed across the table.  
“My name is Clarke. And I know yours is Gina,” she said. Clarke laid out a pouch on the table between them.   
“Does this mean I can go home?” Gina tried not to sound too hopeful.   
“It does. But we should talk about your powers first.”   
“I won’t use them. I swear,” Gina said, the words spilling out of her like she had rehearsed them in her head. “I won’t tell anyone about you guys either!”   
“That’s the thing, Gina,” said Clarke. “You are part of this now. I’m so sorry that you were dragged into this.” Clarke meant every word. She was sorry Gina had been dragged into this world without her consent. “You didn’t deserve this,” Clarke said, mostly to herself.   
She was starting to realize how similar her and Gina were. Despite Gina being dragged into this unwillingly, she was led to believe Clarke was the villain of the story. She had fallen for a Wallace’s words much like Clarke had. And their actions had led to some events they didn’t mean to start.   
Clarke reached across the table and touched the very tips of Gina’s hand, just brushing the skin, trying not to startle her.   
But Gina had felt at ease the moment Clarke sat down and smiled at her. She allowed the touch.   
“I’m going to give back what was taken from you, Gina. That’s my promise to you. And I’m a coven leader myself, so my promises are everything.”   
Gina’s eyes met with Clarke’s and the resolve made her feel confident in Clarke’s promise. “How are you going to help me?”   
Clarke let Gina’s hands go and opened up the pouch. There were six vials filled with dark purple liquid. “From the tests they took on you they were able to find a way to stamp down the effects meaning they found a way to put your powers to sleep.”  
“But it won’t get rid of it entirely?”   
Clarke’s jaw locked. “No. I’m so sorry.”   
Gina couldn’t help it; a few tears dropped down her cheeks and onto the table.   
“I won’t stop looking for a way to fix this, Gina,” said Clarke. “I will keep looking for a way to get rid of your powers.”  
Gina looked up, eyes bloodshot and wet, and grabbed hold of Clarke’s hand. “You promise?”   
A small smile played at the edges of Clarke’s lips. This girl knows how to play the game, Clarke thought. “I promise.”   
Gina sniffled and brought her hands to the vials. “So what do I do with them?”  
“Drink one once a month. My team was only able to make six with the amount of resources we have so you’ll have to come back in six months to get more. Plus, I’d like to see you again,” Clarke said tentatively, head tilting.   
“You want to see me again?” Gina asked before she could hold the question in. She could have just said ‘no thanks,’ but she was surprised Clarke of all people would want her to come back. Especially because Bellamy was her mate.   
“I do. There are a lot of situations that happen in life that we can’t control. But we can control the way we handle them. Let me help you handle this situation,” Clarke said, smiling.   
Gina nodded through her tears. For once since she arrived here, she didn’t feel under attack. Interesting, she thought. Not even Bellamy could put her at ease the way Clarke had.   
Maybe she really was an angel.   
Clarke gave Gina’s hands one last pat before she got up and made her way to the door. “Bellamy will take you home.”  
“Bellamy?” Gina asked, surprised.   
Clarke turned back. “Yes. Is that okay?”   
Gina eyed her; why would she be sending her soulmate, someone she had some sort of connection with, albeit a fake one, to take her home? Why not Kane? Or Lincoln? Or the scary, angry girl who threatened to kill her if she got near Bellamy again? Gina swallowed. “Are you sure?”   
“He makes you comfortable. And despite the fact the connection isn’t natural as it normally is in our world, we can’t deny that it’s there,” Clarke frowned. “He’ll take you home. He’ll make sure you’re okay. I’m just sorry I can’t make sure you’re safe for myself.”   
Gina watched the sad smile cross over Clarke’s face and she wasn’t sure if Clarke was being completely honest. Was she really okay with her mate being so near another women he had a connection with? It must be hurting her on some level and yet she isn’t mad at Gina for it, she realized. Gina sat up straighter.  
“You are a good person, Clarke Griffin,” said Gina as Clarke stepped to the door.  
Clarke wanted to turn around and tell her she wasn’t. If there were any words to describe Clarke Griffin it wouldn’t be that she was a good person. But Clarke wanted to do right by Gina. She didn’t ask for this and she didn’t deserve to be snatched away from her family and friends. This girl, Clarke vowed, would get her happy ending. Even if it meant sacrificing something else in Clarke’s life. At this point, Clarke was used to the sacrifice.   
“I’ll see you soon, Gina,” said Clarke. And closed the door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woooooo, update! A quick one, too! So you guys should know that you are all catching up to the point where I ended on FanFic.net. With that in mind, I am working hard to get more chapters written and uploaded in a timely fashion. The next update will be on the 17th - did you get that? Mark it in your calendars! DECEMBER 17TH NEW UPDATE! That's also my birthday. But from there, updates will come in a little slower. Not that slow, but only because I actually need to write more chapters now. So if that confused you, sorry. And if you get me, awesome. please, REVIEW. Didn't get too many reviews on the last one but I did just update a few days ago, so. The next chapter promises good smutty goodness but I'll need to see those reviews to know if you're excited ;)


	21. Chapter 21

“Can someone please explain to me why there’s a psycho manic still breathing in our interrogation room?”   
Clarke rubbed her temples, hating the question because she wanted nothing more than to kill Cage already. “We need to know where he’s doing his experiments.”  
“We found his base though,” said Jasper. “Are you saying that wasn’t it?”   
“After we blew through the tunnels we searched the debris. We didn’t find any of his research, but we did manage to free the humans he captured. We can rest a little easier knowing we returned them to their families,” said Lincoln.   
“So that means he’s taking them somewhere else to perform the experiments. We just need to find out where,” mumbled Clarke, glaring at Cage through the one-way mirror.   
The side door opened and Clarke steeled herself. “Ready?” she asked.  
Finn nodded. “Let’s see what this bad boy is hiding,” he smirked.

Bellamy’s hands tightened around the wheel and he held his breath waiting for Gina to get out of the car. He had spent the entire car ride trying not to look at her, not for fear of the bond they had, but because the guilt was too much for him.   
“Thank you,” said Gina, body turned toward his. She felt a little better being in the same space as him. Clarke had been right, of course. Gina had felt more at ease with Bellamy near her. And after the talk she had with Clarke, it was easier for Gina to separate her feelings of emotional attachment with Bellamy. She knew it wasn’t real, not the way Bellamy and Clarke were. She looked at both of them with more respect than she thought she could when she first entered the interrogation room at the mansion.   
Bellamy nodded, stiff.   
Gina reached across the seat and placed her hand on his arm. She tried not to feel offended when he tensed. “She’ll forgive you,” she said.   
Bellamy eased only slightly. “Maybe.”  
“But that won’t happen unless you can forgive yourself first.”   
Bellamy laughed humorlessly. “Right.”   
Gina shook her head at his short answers. “It wasn’t your fault, Bellamy. It was a fake connection that Cage made. He knew it would tear you two apart. He told me that all the time. He said you two made a stronger coven together and in order to gain the advantage he had to break you two apart.”   
“How strong can we be if we get broken apart by a connection that isn’t real. That isn’t hers and mine.” Bellamy frowned.   
“Trials and errors,” Gina said, tentative. “This can only make you two stronger. You both need to learn to trust the connection you have.”  
Bellamy finally looked Gina in the eyes, the connection felt dull, like it was fading away. But he still felt grateful to her. He hoped she found her own sense of normal once this was all over. “Stronger together, huh?” Bellamy said, smiling.   
Gina nodded and got out the car.   
“Gina?” a voice yelled across the lawn.   
A young woman stood at the door. Her brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her skin, although dark, looked pale even from the car, Bellamy observed.   
Gina smiled and the young woman needed no other words. She ran toward Gina, her smile wide. They crashed together in a tangle of limbs and breath and Bellamy smiled at the sight. He understood that kind of passion. Stronger together, he said to himself.   
Then he remembered Cage’s eyes, the fathomless eyes and the smirk on his lips as he was carried up the steps to the mansion. It made Gina’s previous words enter his mind again. In order to gain the advantage he had to break them apart. A chill swept down his spine.   
Bellamy cursed before hitting the gas. It was a trap, he thought. 

Finn leaned against the one-way mirror and tried to read Cage again. It was harder to do when he wasn’t being cooperative and answering Clarke’s questions. He wasn’t even lying to her, just ignoring her.   
“You wouldn’t be taking them far, would you? Have to stay close to the research,” said Clarke across from Cage.   
Cage maintained his smirk. “Would we?”  
It was the first thing he had said since they got into the room so Clarke was thrown off by the sound of his voice, so calm and sure.   
“How many successes?” asked Clarke.   
A smirk was his only answer.   
“How did you get our kind to help you? You couldn’t have done all this without magical help.”   
His smirk never waivered. Cage suddenly leaned forward on the table.  
“Where is Bellamy?”   
Clarke flinched at the question. Clearly thrown off, she cleared her throat, and recomposed herself. “Where were you performing your experiments?”  
“The same place you stumbled upon as a little devotee of my father’s,” he said.   
Clarke’s eyes widened and she turned her head slightly to Finn.   
Finn inspected Cage a little longer before nodding, indicating that Cage was telling the truth.   
“But you won’t find anything,” Cage went on.   
“Why is that?” asked Clarke.   
“Because the experiments have ended.”  
Again, Clarke looked to Finn and he nodded. Cage was telling the truth.   
“So what? That’s it? You gave up, just called it quits?” Clarke taunted.   
Cage titled his head at her, amused at her reaction, so angry and frightened by what it all meant. She should be, thought Cage. “Claaaarke,” he said in a sing-song voice. “Where is Bellamy, Clarke?”   
Clarke clenched her jaw. “Why did you stop the experiments?”  
“Bellamy isn’t here, is he?” Cage smiled.   
It was then that the ground beneath their feet began to rattle. The lights overhead had started to flicker and the smell of burnt tar filled the air.   
“Now he is,” said Cage.  
Clarke bolted from her seat. “Detain him!” she shouted, and ran out of the interrogation room.  
There was the sound of footsteps pounding overhead and she heard the shouts before she saw Kane and her mom running toward her.   
“Clarke!” her mom shouted. “We’re being surrounded.”   
“What? What do you mean? By who?”   
“We’re not sure,” Kane admitted. “But they’re creating some type of force field around the mansion somehow. And, well,…” Kane trailed off.  
“Well, what?” Clarke demanded, sensing she wouldn’t like whatever it was he was about to say.   
“Bellamy is out there. He’s trying to make it to the mansion before the force field closes in.”  
Yup, Clarke was right. She didn’t like what he had to say one bit.   
She bolted, shoving Kane and Abby aside, tuning out the loud shouts and questions from people around her. She saw Octavia’s face in her peripheral, but didn’t hear the words she was saying. Clarke threw open the front door.   
There was something oddly peaceful about what she was seeing. Magic users, no, humans she realized, were surrounding the mansion – hundreds of them. She had a sinking feeling there were more than what she was seeing. They were all linking hands, and from their hands spun long white tendrils, like wispy pieces of hair. The tendrils tried to knot themselves together, to make the barrier stronger. But it formed slowly and had enough gaps that Clarke could see Bellamy trying to fight his way through them.   
Bellamy had his gun drawn and he had it trained to their heads. But the humans trying to form the barrier barely spared him a glance. It was the other human magic users marching from the overpass behind Bellamy that worried Clarke the most. They didn’t have the same docile look the barrier makers did; these users looked angry. They were out for blood.   
“Run, Bellamy!” yelled Clarke.   
Bellamy turned to the sound of her voice but it distracted more than it did direct him; the split second he spent looking at her was enough time for the users closing in to shake the ground underneath Bellamy’s feet.   
Clarke didn’t waste another second. She ran toward him, ignoring the cries behind her or the fact that if she got too close to the barrier from the inside it would zap her.   
A loud hum filled the air, so loud that even Clarke could hear it from within the barrier. She noticed the users pulling out their guns. Sparks flew from their hands and engulfed their guns. Electric users, Clarke realized.   
Their guns were pointed directly at Bellamy and Clarke’s chest swelled with pain. There were at least fifteen guns pointed in his direction, and only one needed to hit him for it to do the job.   
Clarke flung both her hands out. “No!” she screamed, ice shooting from her hands and forming together in a matter of seconds, creating a shell around Bellamy and protecting him from the shock.   
Bellamy’s breath hitched in his throat as he saw the ice form a few inches from him. His entire left side chilled and the hairs on his arm rose from the cold. He heard the gunshots hit the ice shield and knew it was now or never. He took off running, crouching so as to not hit his head on the ice and to prepare himself for the jump past the gap in the force field. He made it through the barrier but not before a tendril struck him behind the shoulder. Bellamy tumbled into the grass and took a quick breath before getting up and putting as much distance as he could from the barrier. They hadn’t attacked him when he drew his gun, but he didn’t want to take anymore chances.   
“Bell!” Clarke cried out, catching him around the waist and trying to take some of his weight.   
He cringed against the stinging sensation at his shoulder.   
Clarke breathed him in and tightened her hold. “We need to get that patched up,” she said. She led him back toward the mansion, only sparing a few glances behind her at the now fully formed barrier. The horde of angry users that had shot at Bellamy finally reached the barrier, too. They stood behind the barrier and holstered their guns again, waiting.   
Octavia was the first one to help carry Bellamy to the infirmary. She asked what was going on, if Bellamy was okay, if they would be okay. And Clarke kept quiet the entire time because she just didn’t know. She didn’t know what was happening or if they would be okay. But she knew someone who did. He was being held in their cells. And now she was pissed.   
“Hey,” Bellamy whispered in her ear as they limped along.   
She turned toward him, shaking her head a little to focus on him.   
“Stay here,” he said.   
Her brows furrowed at him. What did he mean by that?  
“Don’t think about him or your hatred for him. Stay right here for now. You won’t stop whatever is happening if you let the anger guide you.”   
Where did that come from? She wondered. “What if anger is all I have left?”   
Bellamy smiled and Clarke almost felt the wind get knocked out of her. It had been so long since she’d seen him smile; she didn’t realize how much she missed it.   
“That’s why I said stay here. In this moment. Focus on one thing at a time.”   
One thing at a time, she told herself. Clarke found herself smiling back, and tears flooded her eyes. But she swallowed them back. First Bellamy, she told herself. Then she’d cry later.  
Clarke hovered mercilessly around Bellamy. She made sure they patched him up quickly but efficiently and even then, she kept correcting her mom’s techniques. Abby grit her teeth to keep from snapping. She understood Clarke’s concern. Bellamy could have very well died out there. Clarke and Bellamy reminded Abby so much of herself and Jake.  
Abby placed a hand on Bellamy’s good shoulder. “You’re going to be fine. Rest up,” she smiled.   
Clarke let out a breath, feeling like she had been holding it in this whole time. She watched the way Bellamy fidgeted on the examination table, the way he wrung his hands out. “Come on,” she said. She held her hand out and waited, transfixed by his hesitation. Did he hesitate because he no longer wanted her?   
Stop, she told herself. That wasn’t the reason. He wouldn’t have risked his life coming back if he didn’t.   
His hand trembled but the warmth in it spread through their touch.  
She led them to her room, to the room where it all started. Bellamy couldn’t help but picture it again; he saw her opening her eyes, lunging from the bed to pin him against the wall, crying because she worried about him, telling him her secret.   
Clarke didn’t say a word. She feared anything she said wouldn’t feel honest enough. She had been so scared seeing him out there, risking his life to make it back to her. If she had lost him she would have hated herself forever. There was so much she still held on to, the guilt, the resentment, the betrayal. All of it felt irrelevant now. She wanted to erase those feelings and replace them with what mattered.  
He placed a finger under her chin and brought her gaze up to his. The tension in her face made him come undone. He leaned his forehead against her own. “Hey,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”   
Clarke shook her head. “I’m so sorry,” she sobbed. When the tears started she couldn’t stop them. They slithered down her cheek and fell on Bellamy’s lap.   
“No, Clarke, I’m sorry. I should have been stronger. I shouldn’t have fallen for his stupid trap.”   
“We both fell for it.”  
“No,” he said, vehemently. “Truth is, he played on a weakness he knew we had. Clarke, you and I are full of fire and passion. But we’ve also been through a lot of heartbreak. I think we were waiting for an excuse to push each other away. Cage knew that. He hoped on it.” Bellamy wiped away her tears. “And I proved him right.”  
“Then so did I.” Clarke carded her fingers through his hair. “We’re in this together,” she said, tightening her hold. When she said it, she knew she meant it. No matter what was tossed their way, she wouldn’t be letting go of him.   
“Together,” he said, the words ghosting along her cheekbone.   
She pressed her lips to his temple. “Make love to me.”   
Bellamy felt the air leave his lungs. He shook slightly. Normally he would have stopped to ask if she was sure, maybe even mention that the time wasn’t right. Under the stress of the situation, with Cage still a threat, it wouldn’t be right. But Bellamy was overcome with this feeling, a need to be closer. He brushed his lips against hers but slow and soft didn’t stamp the need he felt. Apparently, it didn’t for Clarke either. She reached forward, wrapped her hands around the material of Bellamy’s shirt and pressed them closer together. She could feel his heart beating against her breast. It was strong and quick, fueling her own desire. She ran her fingers down his arm. He was hot to the touch and Clarke wondered if she felt the same. When he touched his lips to her neck, Clarke felt a jolt shoot through her. It propelled her forward, pushed herself closer into his touch, and lit her skin on fire. Her bones felt weak and strong at the same time. She wished that feeling would last even once they were done.   
Bellamy pealed her shirt off. Her skin made him catch his breath. She was beautiful. It marveled him; she marveled him. Underneath all that skin was her blood and her power. Yet underneath all that was her soul – her soul that called to his, that matched his. Stripping her of all her clothes, Bellamy thought about their souls.   
How did they know to choose each other? Did they choose each other because they were so alike, or are they so alike because their souls chose each other?   
“Hey,” Clarke whispered, hand caressing his cheek. “Stay here.”   
Bellamy smirked. “There’s no where else I want to be.”   
Clarke bit down on his lower lip. “Prove it.”   
Skin on skin, Bellamy decided, was his favorite sensation. Especially when the skin touching his was Clarke’s. He wanted to be wrapped in her. He hiked her leg up around his waist as he laid her out on the bed.   
The action opened her up to him and when he brushed against the damp part of her that craved him, he had to clench his jaw to relax. As much as he wanted to dive right in, he didn’t want it to end so quickly. He wanted to savor every kiss, every sigh, every pleasure.   
They devoured each other, a clash of tongues and teeth, and heat and sweat.   
Bellamy drew his tongue down the column of her throat. He enjoyed the way she breathed faster at that. He took a nipple into his mouth and bit down, drawing it to him. Clarke cried out against him, back arching and cunt moist, begging. She tried to thrust her hips toward his, but Bellamy pinned her to the bed.   
He shook his head as he pulled back. He took her hands in one of his and held them above her head. Drawing his head down her chest and down her stomach, he left a kiss against her sternum before taking one long lick on her folds.   
“Fuck,” Clarke breathed. Her hands wound into the headboard above her and she pushed against Bellamy’s tongue.   
He hummed against the taste of her, a mixture of sweetness and something that was just Clarke. His fingers joined the action, running along her puckered lips and finding her clit. His thumb rubbed against it slowly, drawing the moans from her.   
Clarke didn’t allow herself to feel self-conscious for practically dripping on the bed sheets. Bellamy was there to lap it up. And the way he was playing her, sucking at her, Clarke knew he was on a mission.   
“Wait, Bell,” Clarke said. She pulled her arm from his grip and wound her fingers in his hair despite her words to stop him. She pushed into his face once more.   
“I don’t think you want me to stop,” Bellamy chuckled. He brought his mouth back to her, sucking and lapping at her juices.   
Despite herself, Clarke moaned aloud, encouraging him. But then she shook her head. “Not like this, Bell.”  
Bellamy pulled back at that, thinking she wanted to stop entirely. “Oh,” he said. “We can wait till this is over. I’m okay to wait.”  
Clarke smiled through her flushed face. “No, silly. That’s not what I mean.” Clark leaned forward, dragging her lips across Bellamy’s neck and cheeks, stopping by his ears. “I want to come with you inside me.”   
Bellamy shuddered at her words, and when Clarke pressed her hips up toward his, Bellamy snapped.   
He yanked Clarke closer and she squealed, her hair dragging across the pillow. Bellamy pinned her arms above her head again and took her lips. He didn’t wait for her reaction. He drew it out from her. He didn’t let her catch her breath, he gave it to her. And when she whimpered against his mouth, he left her for just a moment to shed the rest of his clothes.   
When his skin touched hers this time, they both took a breath and held on. It felt like time had slowed for this moment, the moment where they joined. They watched each other and spoke volumes in the silence. They spoke of the pain they had endured, of the happiness in finding each other, in the betrayal, in the guilt, in the newfound trust they were forging. They groaned as Bellamy sank inside her and when they moved, they did so together. They shared a rhythm and sped up together.  
Clarke tugged on Bellamy’s hair and brought him closer. He pressed a kiss to her temple as his hips slammed into her. She moved along with the bed at his force and drank in the pleasure and ache between her legs.   
“Harder,” she breathed against him. She tried to pull her legs up farther but they faltered under Bellamy’s force.   
He groaned and took hold of her thighs, pressing them back against her chest and spreading her wider. The change brought him in deeper. Clarke gasped and her fingers curled around his shoulders as she felt and heard the smack of his thighs slamming against her.   
More, more, more.   
Bellamy knew she wanted more. Clarke knew he would give it to her.   
His fingers rubbed against her clit in time to his thrusts and felt Clarke tighten around him. Bellamy cursed against Clarke’s lips. She was so close from what his mouth had done to her and she was clenching around him like she wanted to take him in even further and never let him go.   
Suddenly Bellamy gripped her hips. Her legs fell by his sides, no longer held up by his arms, but Clarke barely noticed because Bellamy was fucking her like he meant to leave an imprint deep inside her. Clarke reveled in the sounds. She loved hearing the headboard bang against the wall in time to their fucking. She loved hearing the slap of skin as Bellamy thrusts into her. She loved hearing him groan as she clenched around him. And then she fell apart. Clarke whimpered Bellamy’s name as she came, nails dragging down his skin as he kept fucking her through it. But she wanted to feel Bellamy come apart inside her while she was still riding this high.   
“Bell,” she whimpered. “Come inside me, please.”   
Hearing her beg was enough for him. Bellamy groaned again and gave two more shallow thrusts before falling apart inside her. Clarke almost thought she’d come again at feeling him inside her like that. She clenched once more around him and moved her hips a few more times.   
Bellamy nodded against her neck and left lazy kisses on her warm skin as they breathed together, trying to wind down.   
If there wasn’t danger just outside the mansion walls, if the man she was going to kill wasn’t downstairs being held captive, if the end wasn’t so imminent, Clarke would try for another round. But for now, she’d settle for a quick nap in his arms.   
And so they slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOM. New chapter. And also happy birthday to me. I loved the reviews I got these past few days, please keep them coming as I am hard at work on the next chapter and could use the good vibes. Thanks, guys! You are all the best readers. Seriously. <3


	22. Chapter 22

Bellamy’s arm was draped over Clarke’s waist and he sighed against her hair as he felt her fingers lightly running across it. When reality had set in, he remembered that Cage was locked up downstairs, that the mansion was surrounded by his minions, that Clarke was going to kill Cage. Suddenly her hands felt heavy against him.  
“I know what you’re thinking,” Clarke whispered. “But I have no choice.”  
Bellamy nuzzled the side of her neck. “You always have a choice.”  
Clarke shook her head and tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. “I’m becoming the person I said I wouldn’t.”  
“Maybe that’s the person you need to be.”  
“Maybe. Maybe not.”  
Bellamy just held her tighter. 

 

“You’re going to tell me to call off my minions,” said Cage, folding his hands in front of him. “You’re going to threaten their lives and then tell me how much you want to kill me.”  
Clarke bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from reaching across the table and slapping Cage in the face.  
“Don’t you see, Clarke?” Cage leaned forward on the table, watching the corners of Clarke’s lips twitch. “You and I have become dependent on each other. We circle around the idea of killing each other but we never do it. We need each other.”  
“How do you figure?”  
“The Fates have tied us together. You kill my father, I kill yours, and we remain. We are all that remains. Even with our covens behind us, we are all that remains.”  
Clarke felt his gaze deeper than she wanted to, but in a sick and twisted way, she had a sinking fear that he was right. No matter how hard she fought to end him, he would always remain.  
Clarke leaned forward, too, and smiled sweetly at him. “I can live with what remains of your dead body.”  
“Then by all means, let us move this along,” he said, making a show with his hands, like he was gearing up for the grand finale.  
Clarke chuckled. “Not yet.”  
“Of course,” Cage smirked. “The end is never quite as near as we think, is it, my dear?”  
The door to the interrogation room suddenly opened and Octavia stood in the threshold. “You wanted to see me?” she said to Clarke.  
“Excellent timing,” said Clarke.  
“Yes, leave me in sweet anticipation,” Cage laughed. His laugh followed both Clarke and Octavia out the door.  
“So, what’s up?” asked Octavia.  
Clarke wrung her hands and swallowed. She wasn’t exactly sure how to put in words what she needed, what she was about to ask. It would change Octavia’s life forever. It was an end and a beginning, and Clarke wouldn’t blame her if Octavia said no.  
Clarke placed a hand on Octavia’s arm. “I have something very important to ask of you.”

 

Clarke expected she’d feel different, lighter, maybe? But she didn’t.  
She didn’t even know how she’d ever come to repay Octavia. Clarke would spend the rest of her life, however long it may be, repaying her. She recalled the spark of fear that glinted in Octavia’s eyes even as she agreed to help Clarke. She’s grown up, Clarke realized. Octavia has a promising future ahead of her.  
“Will the coven be able to tell?” Octavia whispered into the stillness that surrounded them. Even the sound of her own breath scared her in that moment.  
“No,” Clarke whispered back. “They won’t be able to feel the difference. Not at first.”  
Octavia nodded, but it felt like she did it out of habit, not because she actually understood. She rubbed her hands together and pulled them apart, looking at them like they’d soon burst into flames or spark electricity between the tips. She felt her eyes water.  
“Hey,” Clarke soothed immediately. She cupped Octavia’s face. “You’re going to do fine. I promise.”  
“But what about you?” she sniffled.  
Clarke smirked. “I’ll be okay. I always am.”  
“You better be. I don’t think my brother could survive if anything happened to you.”  
Clarke chuckled, ruffled Octavia’s hair and said, “He wouldn’t survive if anything happened to you, silly girl.”  
But Octavia didn’t smile. “Is that why you did this?”  
The smile slipped from Clarke’s lips. She couldn’t deny that a part of her did this to protect Octavia above anyone else, to save her from Clarke’s vendetta. If anything happened to Octavia because of her, there’s no way she’d be able to face Bellamy.  
So she said, “Maybe.” And gave Octavia another hug. 

 

When Bellamy woke up he knew something was wrong. He knew not because of his bond with Clarke or their supernatural soulmate bond. His gut was wrenching at him, and he was convinced that was what woke him up, not the cold spot beside him where Clarke should have been.  
Someone knocked on the door just as Bellamy finished dressing and he knew it wasn’t Clarke. She wouldn’t knock to enter her own room.  
“Hey, O,” he said, warmly.  
The smile Octavia gave him looked pained but he didn’t say anything about it. “Hey, big bro. I wanted to talk to you about something,” she said.  
Okay, now Bellamy was a little on edge. “Is everything okay?”  
“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Octavia rushed out. “I was just hoping to have a sibling moment with you.”  
“A sibling moment?” Bellamy couldn’t help but smile.  
“Yes, jerk, don’t laugh.”  
Bellamy raised his hands in front of him. “Alright, I won’t. What’s on your mind?” 

Clarke froze the cuffs around his wrist and watched them crack apart. She dragged him out of his cell. She took a breath. She faced the hoard outside the manor. Just her and her prisoner. 

“And I’m just not sure how to talk to him, you know? I think I like him but sometimes I get so flustered and don’t know what to say. Was it like this for you? I just want it to feel easy.”  
Bellamy sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and patted Octavia’s knee. “Am I supposed to ignore the fact that Lincoln is twice your age?”  
“If you could that’d be nice.” 

Clarke wished she could feel the earth humming under her feet, like it used to do before. Before. Instead, she drew on the moist in the air. Even though it felt like she had tore a part of her being off, calling upon the water, on Aquaria, it felt like coming home. So she drew from it. She drew from it with all her strength.  
Then she felt the ground begin to rumble. 

“Just go with your gut, O. Always,” said Bellamy.  
Then the ground began to rumble.  
“What,” Bellamy started. His eyes shot up to Octavia’s again but she didn’t look as worried as he did. She began to frown. “O?” he asked.  
“I’m sorry,” she gasped, a tear slipping past her cheek.  
Bellamy shot out of the chair and went for the window. “Where’s Clarke, O?” But from the angle of her bedroom and the window, he couldn’t get a clear view of the front of the manor. But he saw the hoard outside the manor start to close in.  
“Where is she?” he roared.  
Octavia shook her head and the tears left more freely. “I did what she asked.”  
Bellamy didn’t wait anymore for answers. He ran out of the room, nearly jumped down the stairs, and saw the crowd of witches huddled by the front windows, some by the open door. From his position on the staircase, he could see just over the heads of those by the front door. And past them, he saw a blonde head. He saw Clarke.  
When he saw Jasper and Monty by the window, he grabbed them. “What’s happening?” he demanded.  
Jasper was a blank face. His eyes had glossed over and he drew his balled up fists against his head.  
Monty stepped up. “She’s fighting.”  
“Well, why aren’t you all out there with her?” he yelled.  
Jasper shook his head and Monty joined him. “Because we can’t,” Jasper whimpered.  
Bellamy’s eyes hardened, confused and desperate for someone to give him answers.  
“She’s not our coven leader anymore,” Monty said.  
Bellamy froze. “Who is?” The gut wrenching sensation from earlier returned.  
Monty and Jasper both looked up then, sensing her presence as she descended the stairs.  
Bellamy followed their gaze.  
Octavia stood, head held high. “I am,” she said. “I’m their coven leader.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY. I lost steam for the story but I'm back! I just graduated from college (yay me) and I'm ready to finish this story. I know I've said that before, but I mean it this time. Mainly because I have other projects I'm working on. In fact, I have a story posted to Wattpad! It's a little different from this one (okay, really different). It's a story about a musician who is going through an identity crisis. She's not sure if going into the family business is really what she wants. She's falling for her best friend. But her best friend is a girl... and she's not sure how to feel about that. It is a queer YA story, and I'd very much appreciate it if you guys could check it out and VOTE. Leaving comments is also good! 
> 
> https://www.wattpad.com/414168517-these-golden-days-winter-2016
> 
> Follow me on wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/alexlivier
> 
> thank you guys so much for sticking with me. I hope you'll continue to do so and check out my ORIGINAL story. Much love <3 Now let's finish up this fic, yeah? REVIEWS, as always, help get the story to you faster. Help me get more steam for the story!!!


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